ALONG THE 

LABRADOR 

COAST 




CHARLES WENDELL 
TOWN5END MD 




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Book - T^y ^X- 
Copyrightl^^ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Along the Labrador Coast 




W. Hilton, Pinxt. T. iMedland, Sculp. 

Captain Cartwright Visiting His Fox-traps 

Frontispiece 



c^LONG THE 
LABRADOR^ 
COAST ^ ^ 



BY 

CHARLES WENDELL TOWNSEND, M.D. 

JluthoT of "The ^irds of Essex CountXf" 

With Illustrations fiom Photographs 
and a Map 




BOSTON d^ DANA ESTES & 
COMPANY i# PUBLISHERS 



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I uaRsavof coNeREssl 

Two CoDles Hscelved \ 

MA> 29 '90f 

- Copyne-ht Entrv 

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COPY ^ 



Copyright, igoj 
By Dana Estes & Company 

All rights reserved 



COLONIAL PRESS 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. 

Boston, U.S.A. 



Captain Cartwright 

"Explanation of Frontispiece. 

" npHE FRONTISPIECE represents a Winter 
Scene on the seacoast of Labrador, with 
the Author taking his usual walk round his fox- 
traps. He is supposed to have got sight of some 
deer, and has put his dog's hood on, to keep 
him quiet. His hat (which is white,) north- 
wester, wrappers, cuffs, breeches, and buskins, 
are English; his jacket (which is made of 
Indian-dressed deerskin, and painted,) sash, 
and rackets are Mountaineer; and his shoes 
Esquimau. The pinovers of his northwester 
are loose, and hang down on the right side of 
it. On his back is a trap, fixed by a pair of 
slings, in the manner of a soldier's knapsack. 
A bandoleer hangs across his breast, from his 
right shoulder; to which are fastened a black 
fox and his hatchet. A German rifle is on his 



CAPTAIN CARTWRIGHT 

left shoulder. In the backgrotind. is a yellow 
fox in a trap ; beyond him, there is a white bear 
crossing the ice of a narrow harbour; and at 
the mouth of the harbour the view is terminated 
by a peep at the sea, which is frozen over. The 
tops of a few small rocks appear, and the rocky 
summits of the distant hills are bare, but all 
the rest of the ground is covered with snow." 
— "A Journal of Transactions and events during 
a Residence of nearly sixteen years on the Coast 
OF Labrador." By George Cartwright, Esq., 
Newark, 1792. 



Preface 



Labrador is an interesting country. It is 
near at hand and easily accessible, yet it is but 
little known. Two mail-steamers, which carry 
passengers, sail to Labrador from Newfound- 
land, and Newfoundland is quickly and easily 
reached from Sydney, Cape Breton, One 
steamer, the Home, sails once a week from the 
Bay of Islands on the west coast of Newfound- 
land, skirts this mountainous shore, crosses 
the Straits of Belle Isle, and, after touching at 
a dozen places on the southern coast of Labra- 
dor, reaches Battle Harbour. Here it turns 
about for the return journey. 

The other mail-steamer, the Virginia Lake, 
leaves St. Johns at the end of the railroad on 
the east coast of Newfoundland once in two 
we^ks, follows this picturesque coast, and 
crosses the Straits directly to Battle Harbour. 



PREFACE 

From here it proceeds to Nain, or as far north 
as the ice will permit. 

As we wished to see as much of the Labrador 
coast as possible, in our brief summer vacation, 
my companion and I combined the trips. We 
went by the Home to and from Battle Harbour, 
and from the latter place to Nain and back by 
the Virginia Lake. 

Although the birds were the chief objects 
of my study, I found many points of interest 
in Labrador. Nowhere can one find so near 
home icebergs and the floe. These alone made 
the trip well worth while. The scenery, the 
geology, the flowers and trees, the fish and 
fishermen, the Eskimos and Eskimo dogs, the 
Hudson's Bay Company's posts, the Moravians 
and Doctor Grenf ell's Mission are all of un- 
usual interest. 

When the Eastern States are smothering in 
July and August heat, the cool air of Labrador 
has its attractions. Certainly one can obtain 
a more complete change in a brief visit to 
Labrador than in any other way. 

Nearly all the photographs reproduced here 



PREFACE 

were taken by Dr. Glover M. Allen and myself. 
Several were taken the previous summer by 
Dr. W. P. Bolles and Dr. E. A. Crockett. To 
all of these, particularly to Doctor Allen, the 
companion of my travels, I wish to express my 
thanks. 

Boston, September^ igo6. 



vu 



Contents 



CHAPTER PAGE 

Preface v 

I. The Southern Coast of Labrador . ii 

11. Battle Harbour . .... 32 

III. A Labrador Night 66 

IV. The Eastern Coast of Labrador . . 79 
V. Fish and Fishermen . . . .119 

VI, Icebergs and the Floe . . . .141 
VII. Hopedale and Nain, the Moravians 

AND the Eskimos 161 

VIII. The Eskimo Dog 191 

IX. Cape Charles and Captain Cartwright 207 

X. Another Day at Cape Charles . . 229 
XI. Audubon and the Need of an Audubon 

Society in Labrador .... 247 
XII. Doctor Wilfred T. Grenfell and His 

Work 267 

Index 281 



List of Illustrations 



PAGE -^ 

Captain Cartwright Visiting His Fox -traps Frontispiece 

Bonne Bay, Newfoundland 19 ' 

West St. Modeste 19 

Battle Harbour. Northern End . . . • 35"^ 

Battle Harbour. Frame for Drying Nets . . 35 

Tilts and Fish -stages, Battle Harbour . . • 39^ 
Skins of Harp Seals on a Fish -house at Battle 

Harbour 39 

The Devil's Dining Table, Henley Harbour. . 47 y 

Rocky Amphitheatre, Great Caribou Island . • 57 ^ 

Wood -piles at Battle Harbour .... 57 

Comfort Bight and the "Virginia Lake" . . 91 '' 

Whale Factory at Forteau 91 

The Hudson's Bay Company's Post at Cartwright 99/ 

Rigolet 105 ^ 

The Hudson's Bay Company's Steamer " Pelican " 105 

Fishermen at Batteau 121^ 

Visiting Fishing -boats Alongside the "Virginia 

Lake" at Batteau ... ... 127-^ 

Fish -stage at Battle Harbour. . . . .127 

Hauling a Trap near Punch Bowl . . . .133 

Sod Hut at Houlton 137 , 

Hut Made Out of an Old Boat at Long Tickle 137 

Iceberg ..... 143 

Iceberg 147 

The " Virginia Lake" Steaming through the Floe 

Ice at Double Island i53>' 

The Ice at Long Tickle *S7y 

The Ice at Ragged Harbour . c . . . 157 



xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Eskimo in Kayak 165 ' 

HoPEDALE 165 

Nain 171 - 

Nain. Eskimo Village. The «' Virginia Lake " at 

Anchor 175 

Joel Joseph on Board the Steamer at Long Tickle 179 

Eskimos at Hopedale 185 / 

Eskimos at Nain 185 

Eskimo Half-breeds at Long Tickle . . . 193*^ 

Eskimo Dogs at Long Tickle ^99/ 

A Mountain Tarn near White Bear Bay . . 199 

Indian Cove, Cape Charles 209 

Indian Cove, Cape Charles 209 

Dr. Grenfell's Hospital at Battle Harbour . 269 
Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell, the Magistrate, Taking 

Evidence 269 



Along the Labrador 
Coast 



CHAPTER I 

THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

" If the soil were as good as the harboroughs are, it were a 
great Commoditie ; but it is not to be called the new Land but 
rather stones and wilde cragges, and a place fit for wilde beasts, 
for in all the North Land, I did not see a cart-load of good earth, 
. . . To be sure, I beleeve that this was the land that God 
allotted to Caine." 

— Jacques Cartier, 1S34, " First Voyage,'' Hakluyfs version. 

'T^HE approach to Labrador is interesting. 
In order to save time we had come by 
rail to North Sydney, hurrying by the 
beautiful Bras d'Or Lakes of Cape Breton, 
From North Sydney it is a night's journey by 
the " large and elegant " steamer Bruce to 
Port aux Basques at the southwest comer of 
Newfoimdland, and if one wishes to speak like 
a native, one should say NewfoundUnd, with 

11 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the accent on the last syllable. Here the train 
on the narrow gauge railroad, which runs its 
devious course along the west shore, and then 
across the island to St. Johns, is boarded. I use 
the nautical phrase " boarded " advisedly, for 
soon after starting, one realizes that the way 
is tempestuous and that the cars pitch and 
groan and creak Hke a ship at sea. One must 
take care of one's steps, and eating is a difficult, 
not to say dangerous, process. Later, while 
walking up the track by the Humber River, 
I found the flag-covered train of the visiting 
governor-general of Canada at a standstill. 
I asked the conductor, who was outside, 
whether the train had broken down. " Oh, no," 
he said, " his lordship is eating his breakfast." 
The train does not go very fast, and one has 
a good chance to view the country, which is 
for the most part desolate half -burnt forests, 
with here and there a lake or an open caribou 
barren. We passed a range of mountains with 
snow-filled valleys, and this was on the glorious 
Fourth of July. Progress up an incline was 
still more slow, owing to the wet and slippery 

12 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

rails. Every now and then, the engine would 
stop, back a little for a fresh start, and then 
creep painfully ahead, puffing violently. The 
brakemen ran alongside, shovelling gravel on to 
the track, while the conductor hit wildly at 
loose bolts on the engine with a long hammer. 
Here I was able to do a little botanizing without 
losing the train. Shadbushes and marsh-mari- 
golds, early spring flowers with us, were still 
in blossom. We arrived at our destination at 
Bay of Islands at seven in the evening, having 
travelled 143 miles in eight hours. 

The mail-steamship Home, on which we were 
to embark for Labrador, although due to sail 
that afternoon, had not returned from her last 
trip, so we put up at the " British North 
American Hotel," kept by Antonia Joseph and 
son, across the track from the railroad station. 
The " Hotel," not as palatial as its name 
might imply, and its proprietor reminded me 
of certain portions of my native city. How- 
ever, we were well content, and passed three 
very comfortable days there, feasting on fried 
onions and on the salmon which Antonia 

13 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

caught every morning in his nets near the 
mouth of the Humber River. 

As trains go only every second day, we were 
not disturbed from this source, although the 
tracks ran almost under the " baranda " — as 
our host called it — outside of our window. 
In fact, when a train did go by, one felt inclined 
to wave and cheer, the excitement was so great. 

At this railroad station were great piles of 
soft coal, about which wandered sheep that 
reminded us of the little poem: 

" Mary had a little lamb, 

Its fleece was white as snow ; 
It followed her to Pittsburg 

And now look at the d n thing." 

The sheep frequented the tracks and were 
to be seen lying with their heads on the rail 
as if prepared for the slaughter. The danger, 
however, was not great. 

The post-office here is not a rushing place. 
After some search the pretty postmistress 
produced a well thumbed post-card and two 
two-cent stamps. As we wished more, she 
said that she had sold some stamps the pre- 

14 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

vious week to one of the neighbours, and she 
thought she might be able to get them back 
for us, as she knew they had not been used yet. 

The scenery along the Humber is very fine, 
and the woods were filled with interesting birds 
in full song, so that we enjoyed our stay ex- 
ceedingly. Fox sparrows were singing every- 
where their wonderful flute-like song. The 
Lincoln's sparrow takes the place of his near 
relative, the song sparrow, here, but unlike 
that bird he is very shy, especially while singing. 
White-throated sparrows, pine linnets, pine 
grosbeaks, and crossbills were all abundant. 
The ruby-crowned kinglet, winter wren, and 
V\^ater-thrush were in full song, and I became 
intimately acquainted with the mourning war- 
bler. Perhaps I should qualify the last state- 
ment by limiting my acquaintance to the male, 
for it was only with the greatest difficulty that 
I managed to get a glimpse of the shy female. 

After considerable delay, — and delays are 
the rule and not the exception in this part of 
the world, — we were off on the good steam- 
ship Home, on July 7th, and at once felt at 

15 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

home in the company of her jovial commander. 
It is a great comfort to know that the captain 
of the steamer in which one is travelling is care- 
ful, conscientious, and skilful, and in these 
qualities Captain Taylor is indeed preeminent, 
but he does love dearly his little joke, as I soon 
foimd out, and he was unmerciful in his atten- 
tions to two students from Philadelphia, who 
were going salmon fishing. The gaiety of the 
voyage was further augmented by an amateur 
geologist from Washington, who frequently 
referred to the exposed strata in view with the 
sage remark, " Potsdam, I believe," and the 
New Jersey physician, whose constant pleasure 
was to suggest seasickness — although the 
sea was calm — to one of the students, until 
his suggestion was effective, when the worthy 
doctor was filled with regret. 

The Bay of Islands is a wonderfully beautiful 
bay, extending in three great arms many miles 
into the land. Its shores are high and in places 
moimtainous. Moimt Blomidon rises sheer 
from the water to a height of 2,135 feet, its 
black and scarred precipices towering up in 

16 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

rugged beauty. Brooks foam down its sides 
and break into waterfalls over the precipices, 
floating off in the wind in a cloud of spray. 
Lark Harbour is a lovely offshoot from the bay 
between guardian mountains. The shores 
abound in ovens or caves, with little pebbly 
beaches in between. One could linger all sum- 
mer along this beautiful Newfoundland coast, 
but as Kipling says, " That is another story," 
for my tale is about Labrador. I will merely 
say, however, that for two days and a half we 
coasted the Newfoundland shore, stopping at 
Bonne Bay, where the scenery is glorious, — 
the mountains one to two thousand feet in 
height, — and at Hawkes's Bay, a beautiful 
lake-like bay, where we first met the smells 
and sights of a whale factory. I put the smells 
first advisedly. Here we had an afternoon 
and evening ashore, and learned much about 
the birds, and visited a salmon stream as well, 
where salmon of large size were rushing up the 
turbident current, jumping at times clear from 
the water. Most of the ship's company, in- 
cluding the purser and the postman, valiantly 

17 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

fished the stream and fought the flies, returning 
triumphantly with one sahnon and one large 
trout. We turned in that night while the ship 
was still fast to the whale factory wharf, unload- 
ing coal, but notwithstanding the noise of the 
winches and the smell of departed whales, that 
•was thick enough to be cut with a knife, we 
slept the sleep of the just. 

At Flower's Cove, the last stop on the New- 
foimdland side, we went ashore in the mail-boat, 
and got a taste of the arctic conditions that we 
should see on the Labrador side. Barren rocks 
and moors, reindeer and sphagnum moss, 
dwarf spruces, firs and willows, bake-apple 
flowers and mountain azaleas, men in skin 
boots, sealskins stretched on frames, howling 
and fighting Eskimo dogs, made us eager for 
what was to come. 

Just as we were finishing supper, the mate 
put in his head and said, " There is a bull-bird, 
sir, swimming close to the ship." I rushed 
out, and sure enough a dovekie or little auk 
was swimming in such a bewildered way so 
close to the vessel that the mate was able to 

18 




Bonne Bay, Newfoundland 

Photograph by Dr. E. A. Crockett 




West St. Modeste 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

catch it in a bucket. The bird had lost one 
foot, and it was perhaps owing to this crippled 
condition that it stayed so far south in summer. 
It was probably the only bird of its kind on the 
coast that summer, and it showed great dis- 
crimination in choosing to swim to the Home. 
It was in interesting simimer plimiage with 
black upper breast. 

The next morning, July loth, we caught a 
glimpse of the Labrador shore, through the fog, 
as we steamed across the Straits of Belle Isle, 
here about fifteen or twenty miles wide. As 
our object had been incidentally to see and 
learn all we could of everything, but chiefly and 
above all things to take note of the bird life, 
our place was always on deck in fair weather 
and foul, and ashore whenever we could get a 
chance. ' As we returned by the same route, 
we were able to fill out our knowledge of the 
parts of the coast invisible by fog or night on 
the way north, and for the sake of simplicity 
I have described it all in continuity. 

From time to time we had seen nimibers of 
puffins, or paroqueets, as they are invariably 

21 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

called here, flying about or swimming on the 
water, but were quite surprised at the numbers 
we saw at and near Paroqueet Island off 
Bradore, the westernmost point touched at 
along the southern Labrador coast. This is a 
small island of crumbling red sandstone, with 
a slightly elevated centre. Here the puffins 
were flying about, as thick as flies around a 
sugar-bo wL Many were sitting on the rocks 
in groups of half a dozen or more, others dotted 
the surface of the water all about, but the 
majority were either busily flying away from 
the island after provender for their young, 
or were returning with caplin, small silvery 
fish, hanging from their bills. The birds burrow 
in the soft rock of the island and a single egg 
is laid in the burrow. 

The puffin is a good bird to watch from a 
steamer, for he allows of close approach before 
he attempts to get out of the way. After 
nervously dabbing with his bill at the water 
a few times, he either dives or flies away. In 
both cases he may be said to fly away, for in 
diving he flops out his wings and continues to 

22 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OP LABRADOR 

use them tinder the water in flight. I 
watched one near at hand come out of the 
water flying, only to plump down into the 
water again and continue his flight below the 
surface. 

Whether swimming on the surface or in 
aerial flight the shape and appearance of the 
puffin are characteristic. They are short and 
apoplectic in form, being devoid of a neck. 
Their large red bills and gray eye-rings, which 
suggest spectacles, and the dark band about 
the neck give them a comical appearance. 
We met with them all along the Labrador 
coast, but nowhere so plentifully as here. 

The line between Canadian and Newfoundland 
Labrador, although still a vexed question, is 
to the east of Bradore, between it and Blanc 
Sablon. All the rest of the trip was in New- 
foundland Labrador. Bradore Bay is sur- 
rounded by small but interesting mountains, 
three of which are conical in shape and tower 
above the rest, one of them reaching the height 
of 1,264 feet. They were the last we saw of 
" The Labrador " when we steamed south, and 

23 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

we regretftdly watched them disappear from 
sight. 

In this Bradore Bay, the hardy Breton 
fishermen and traders foimded the town of 
Brest about the year 1520. Traces of this town, 
which is said to have had one thousand inhab- 
itants, are still to be found. 

Near Blanc Sablon, as its name would imply, 
are white sands in the form of dunes and 
beaches. Recent changes of level are shown 
by the raised beaches. The fish companies' 
houses here are neat and substantial, painted 
a clean white, but we obtained all too scanty 
ghmpses of this place through the fog and rain. 
However, it is here that we saw our first ice- 
berg, albeit a small stranded one. Terraced 
hillsides, with pa.tchesof snow and cloud-capped, 
formed the background, while men in oilskins 
rowing in dories, one facing the bow, the other 
the stem, were all about us in the foregroimd. 
Others were rowing in long fishing-boats with 
great sweeps. A sealing steamer, the Nimrod, 
lay at anchor. The air was chilly and cold, 
53° at noon on that the tenth of July. 

24 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

At Forteau there is a large open bay with 
dark red sandstone diffs of horizontal strata 
which give the appearance of terraces. All 
these stratified rocks on the southern coast 
were laid down during the Cambrian epoch. 
We went ashore in the mail-boat and climbed 
the steep wet hillside amid the Labrador tea 
and Alpine azalea, the dwarf balsam fir and 
black spruces. An Alice's thrush sang on our 
right, several white-crowned and savanna spar- 
rows on our left. 

As we steamed eastward, we saw a few 
razor-billed auks, or tinkers as they are called, 
and murres. We had seen these birds from 
time to time the last day or two. The razor- 
billed auk is larger than the puffin, but it has, 
like the latter bird, a short neck, while the 
murre, of which there are both the common 
and the Briinnich's here, shows a longer neck 
both in flight and on the water. The auk sits 
nearly bolt upright on the rocks, and on the 
water has a habit of cocking up its tail, which 
the murre declines to do. At this season the 
bill of the auk is broad and sharp, which at 

25 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

once distingiiishes it from the murre, with its 
narrower bill. As the auk flies away, it shows 
a characteristic pattern on the back, the white 
of the sides rolling up, so that there is only 
a black line in the middle. In the case of the 
puffin, the whole back looks black from the 
same point of view. All the members of this 
group, the auks, murres, puffins, and black 
guillemots, sway frequently from side to side 
in flight above water, while all use their wings 
in flight below water. We were kept busy 
noting all these points from the deck as we 
steamed along. Our prismatic binoculars were 
in constant use, and I occasionally had recourse 
to a telescope for birds at a distance where the 
diagnosis was in doubt. 

L'Anse au Loup lies at the head of a shallow 
bay in the middle of an amphitheatre of hills. 
The settlement of neat white houses is built 
on a beach of red sand, over which extend 
about a dozen long narrow wharves erected on 
piles. On either side rose red sandstone ter- 
raced cliffs whose horizontal strata were in- 
terrupted in places by white lines of limestone. 

26 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

There was a steep talus slope at the foot, here 
dark red and naked, there clothed with vegeta- 
tion of a lovely fresh green colour. There were 
patches of snow here and there, and rushing 
brooks and cascades falling from the cliffs. The 
cliffs to the eastward, which resemble the 
Palisades of the Hudson, are called " The 
Battery " by the sailors. They rise sheer to a 
height of 350 feet, while the mountains behind, 
which were dimly to be seen in the mist, reach a 
height of 1,100 feet. There were great caves 
in places, and in others outstanding turrets. 
The fishing-boats in the sea at the foot of the 
cliff looked tiny in comparison. These cliffs 
extend to the eastward as far as L'Anse au 
Diable. The latter word is softened here, and 
bereft of its terrois by being pronoimced 
"jobble." 

At Point Amour, which, curiously enough, is 
contiguous to L'Anse au Diable, the Straits of 
Belle Isle are only eight miles wide. This is 
the narrowest point. Beyond this we dropped 
anchor, while the mail-boat went ashore at 
West St. Modeste. Here I noticed that trawls 

27 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

or, as they are called here, " bultows " were 
used for fish, and men were busy hauling and 
baiting them. 

As we steamed along, a great iceberg appeared 
out of the mist, rising in three peaks, green and 
white, from the cold blue-gray water, against 
a background of fog that was tinged a pale 
salmon colour by the smiset. The iceberg 
changed constantly in colour and outline as we 
went by. It was a wonderfully beautiful and 
impressive sight. 

The steamer now turned into the land, and 
it looked as if we were going to run ashore on 
the rocks. However, a narrow passage, or 
" tickle," suddenly opened out, and through 
this we passed into the picturesque, landlocked 
harbour of Red Bay, surrounded by tumbled 
liills. Here was suddenly revealed to us a little 
village of a dozen houses, all painted white, 
and a church with a red pointed steeple. 
Farther in the bay were some more houses. A 
green schooner with rich dark brown sails was 
coming to anchor, and a small fishing-boat 
with pink sails was scudding about. I went 

28 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

ashore on a low rocky island, and was taken 
off to prescribe for a disconsolate dyspeptic 
fisherman. 

Of Chateau, at which we stopped at two the 
next morning, I saw nothing, but on the return 
trip I got a glimpse from Henley Harbour of the 
lovely valley in which this lies, surrounded by 
blue-peaked mountains. Henley Harbour is 
notable for the great flat-topped mass of black 
basalt called the Devil's Dining-table, which 
towers above it to a height of 225 feet, resting 
on a base of syenite. The lower half of this 
mass of basalt is formed into perfect hexagonal 
columns, about twenty-five feet high. Some of 
these columns stand out almost by themselves. 
They are of the same formation as the Giant's 
Causeway in Ireland. There is a sharp line of 
demarkation between the lower columnar basalt 
and the upper part, which shows no columns. 
This must have been a later flow of basalt, 
solidifying under different conditions. As far 
as I could discover in a hasty survey, the top 
seemed inaccessible, but there is said to be an 
easy stair-like ascent over the columns at the 

29 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

eastern side. The width of the Table is about 
350 feet. 

While I explored a raised beach of sea 
pebbles below the northern end of the Table, 
a great white and mottled falcon which could 
be no other than a white or Iceland gyrfalcon, 
circled about the cliffs to the north. He soon 
alighted and disappeared into a deep cleft. 
Reappearing, he hopped and fluttered a few 
paces along the side. The summons to return 
to the ship roused me from the observation of 
this noble bird, and I had to be content with 
what I had seen. 

Chateau and Henley Harbours have an inter- 
esting history. It was here that Jacques 
Cartier assembled his fleet in 1535. It was 
garrisoned by the British in 1763 in order to 
protect the fisheries, but it was captured in 1778 
by the American privateer Minerva. Three 
vessels and property to the value of seventy 
thousand pounds sterling were carried away. 
Again in 1796 the place was bombarded by 
a French fleet. The British, when all their 
ammiinition was exhausted, retreated into the 

30 



THE SOUTHERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

back country, lea\T,ng a burning village behind 
them. 

Between Henley Harbour and Battle Harbour, 
at the entrance of the Straits, the steamer passed 
by flat-topped red sandstone hills lying on a 
more ancient base. Off to the east were the 
cliffs of Belle Island with their long level sky- 
line. 

We reached Battle Harbour on the morning 
of July nth, and dropped anchor off the south- 
em entrance. 



31 



CHAPTER II 

BATTLE HARBOUR 

" Early this morning I went to great Caribou, and walked all 
over that Island." 

— Cartwrighfs Journal, Jan. I'j, ly^i. 

A S we landed from the Home at Battle Har- 
bour, we met some friends from " the 
States " who were departing on the same 
steamer. They had been waiting three days 
and they said: " You will soon be tired of this 
place. You can see everything in half an hour." 
On my remarking that the birds would keep 
us occupied, they replied that there were 
" about three sparrows " on the island. 

We spent three days there, waiting for the 
Virginia Lake to take us north, and a longer 
time on our return, yet not a moment did we 
grudge, so full of interest is the place. 

The Eskimos in former days dwelt in these 
favoured regions and even farther south. Be- 

32 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

tween them and the Indians was a constant 
feud, and here it is, tradition says, that a final 
and decisive battle took place. The Indians, 
who were the first to come in contact with the 
whites, and had obtained from them gun- 
powder and firearms, were victorious, and the 
Eskimos retreated northward. 

Battle Harbour is formed by the slight expan- 
sion of a narrow passage or "tickle," as these 
passages are called, between Battle Island 
on the east and Great Caribou Island on the 
west. The waters of the harbour were on our 
arrival, as they are at all times during the 
summer, a scene of great activity. Fishing- 
schooners are anchored all about, in close 
proximity to each other and to the dangerous 
looking rocks. Men crowd their decks cleaning 
fish or mending nets. A larger vessel, a three- 
masted schooner with square upper sails on the 
foremast, is moored alongside of the wharf, 
discharging a cargo of salt from Cadiz, to 
receive in return one of salted fish, the finished 
product of the place. Smaller boats, great 
fishing-boats, with sweeps eighteen feel? long, 

33 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

dart about in all directions. One man stands 
erect on a thwart near the stern, and sculls 
with a huge oar. Other boats are under sail, 
the sails picturesquely stained with bark to a 
yellow or brown tint. , 

Partly blocking the mouth of the harbour on 
the south is a rocky promontor}?-, on which a 
structure like an immense grape trellis is 
erected. Its use is evident from the mass of 
nets used for a fish-trap, which is here spread 
to dry. The nets like the sails are " barked " 
a terra-cotta red. Farther to the south is 
Double Island with its lighthouse, the only 
one on the eastern coast of Labrador, with 
the exception of the one at Indian Tickle. 
Some twelve miles south of Double Island, the 
shadowy outlines of the lofty cliffs of Belle 
Isle can be discerned. 

On the north of the harbour several islands 
narrow the tickle, and a glorious iceberg, 
glittering in the sun, and wonderful in the 
greens and blues of its shadows, adds to the 
interest of the view. This berg is stranded in 
the deep water near the mouth of the harbour, 

34 







Battle Harbour, Northern End 




Battle Harboi.r. Frame for Drying Nets 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

and I can count seven others in sight. Be- 
yond stretches the lovely St. Lewis Sound, 
with its mountainous shores and rocky islands. 
The mountains are small, but are beautiful 
in the morning light and changing cloud 
shadows, and there is a charm in their desola- 
tion and wildness, unbroken by the faintest 
sign of man's occupancy. 

But to return to the harbour. To the west 
rise the rocky walls of Great Caribou Island 
almost precipitously to a height of one himdred 
and fifty to two hundred feet. Clinging to 
their steep slopes close to the water are ten or 
a dozen fishermen's tilts, little boxes of houses, 
weather-stained and lichen-covered, match- 
ing perfectly the rocks, while extending over 
the water itself is an equal number of fish 
stages. These rude structures at once suggest 
the dwellings of the ancient Lake Dwellers of 
Switzerland. They are erected on small piles 
over the water, their sides thatched with fir 
boughs, and their roofs with green sods, amidst 
which grow alpine flowers of rare beauty and 
interest. 

37 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

On the easterly or Battle Island side there 
is a small plateau between the high rocky 
island and the water. This bit of grotind is 
eked out by an extensive wharf, on which the 
substantial buildings of the fish company are 
situated. Behind these is a fish flake or plat- 
form for drying fish, of perhaps an acre in 
extent, and at times no hay-field scene can be 
busier. Immediately behind this and under 
the great rocky hill of the island are the two 
hospital buildings of Dr. Wilfred Grenfell, 
with the motto in large letters across the front : 
" Inasmuch as ye have done it imto one of 
the least of these my brethren, ye have done it 
imto me." On either side, and extending along 
the shore, is the little village of some two dozen 
houses, with a small church and schoolhouse. 
Wigwam-shaped wood-piles are dotted here 
and there. The sticks of wood fifteen or twenty 
feet long are arranged in this manner so that 
they shall project above the winter's snows. 
A few sealskins are drying on frames or on the 
roofs of the houses. On the top of the rock is 
an observation platform and flagstaff, as well 

38 




Tilts and Fish-stages, Battle Harbour 




Skins of Harp Seals on a Fish-house at Battle Harbour 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

as the house and staff of a Marconi wireless 
telegraph station. 

All of these varied scenes and objects can 
be viewed from the top of the rock, and one 
never grows weary of studying them. There 
is always something new. The colours of the 
rocks, with their patches of struggling vegeta- 
tion, the surf along the shores, the colour of the 
sea itself, of the sky, of the distant moimtains, 
and of the wonderful icebergs, the drifting 
fogs, and the ever-changing mirage can only 
be described by the brush of a great artist. 
To lie in the lee of a rock on an elastic bed of 
reindeer moss and curlew berry in the stin and 
pure cool air, and drink in all the changing 
beauty of the scene, is an experience worth 
treasuring. 

The rocks of Battle Harbour, and by this I 
mean Battle Island and the Great Caribou 
Island, are archaic, granites and gneiss, gray 
and pink, with numerous black trap dikes run- 
ning generally north and south, a few east and 
west. White quartz veins, big and little, run 
in every direction, crumpled in places by the 

41 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

internal forces so that they form tortuous 
ribbons on the rock surface. There is evidence 
here of a greater battle than was ever fought 
by puny human hands. The signs of old 
Mother Nature's pristine Titanic force are 
everywhere apparent. In direct contrast to 
this fiery fury, the marks of recent glaciation 
in the rounded forms, the roches moutones, the 
stri^ running northwest and southeast, are 
also apparent. 

At first sight one would say that no trees 
are to be foimd on these islands, but a closer 
inspection shows thefe are several kinds. 
All lie flat on the ground, flatter than our 
ground juniper, not daring to raise their heads 
even a few inches against the chilling blasts. 
This statement is true all along the exposed 
eastern shore and islands of Labrador, but in 
the sheltered nooks and crannies the same 
trees may be found reaching a height of several 
inches or even feet. The conditions here are 
the same as on the summit of ]\It. Washington, 
and many of the plants are the same. It 
is a paradise for the botanist, and I almost 

42 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

forgot the birds in my desire to belong to this 
class. Two kinds of willows, one with pale 
olive-coloured leaves, the other with dark, shin- 
ing green ones, creep along the ground. Birches 
with little round leaves, and larches, spruces, 
and balsam firs, all join this humble rank of 
creeping vegetation. Some of these trees are 
evidently of great age. A little larch that had 
successfully risen to the great height of nine 
inches in a gully, I found on sectioning and 
cotmting the rings with a pocket lens to be 
thirty-two years old. The massive tinink was 
three-eighths of an inch in diameter. A balsam 
fir with a spread of branches of twenty-seven 
inches, whose topmost twig was thirteen inches 
from the ground, showed fifty-four rings in 
a massive trunk two inches in diameter. An- 
other balsam fir nine inches high and twenty- 
one inches in extent showed thirty-five rings 
in a trunk one inch and a quarter in diameter. 
A black spruce eleven inches tall and twenty- 
two in extent, with a trunk only one inch in 
diameter, had lived over half a century, show- 
ing fifty-two rings in its cross section. The 

43 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

sturdy little veteran wreaked his vengeance 
on me by making a great nick in the sheath- 
knife with which I laboured to dissect him and 
learn his secrets. 

One can appreciate the humour of the jovial 
captain of the Home who took some young 
men aside and advised them to be careful 
not to carve their names on the trees of 
Battle Island, as there was a strict law against 
it! 

The hard bare rocks are for the most part 
covered with lichens, black and gray, yellow and 
orange. Everywhere it can get a foothold 
is the fir-like creeping empetrum, the " black- 
berry " of the Labradorites, the well-known 
curlew berry or crowberry. With this is 
mingled a small amount of the gray reindeer 
lichen, much more abundant farther north, 
and various mosses. Sphagnum moss is every- 
where, and is always as full of water as a sponge, 
whether it be on a steep hillside or in a deep 
glen. In places it may be seen advancing like 
a floating garden over a dark pool, of which 
there are many, large and small, in these islands, 

44 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

and woe to the incautious one who steps too 
heavily on this floating mass. 

Among these Hchens and mosses grows the 
Labrador tea, short and stunted here, but 
with its characteristic furry brown under 
surface of the leaves. Its bunches of white 
flowers are conspicuous and attractive to the 
flies. A dwarf beach pea is common, as well 
as a dwarf purple iris, alpine chickweed, marsh 
trefoil, mountain heath, and alpine azalea, 
while great bunches of fleshy leaved sedums 
or live-forever with their purple and yellow 
flowers reach a height inversely in proportion 
to the exposure of their positions. This latter 
plant seems particularly fond of growing on 
the roofs of the tilts and other sod-covered 
houses all along the coast. A pretty flower 
looking like a violet is common, with a rosette 
of yellowish leaves at the base, Pingnicula 
vulgaris, and a moss-like plant, beset with tiny 
pink flowers, the moss campion. The latter 
is also called the cushion pink, a very ap- 
propriate name. Another flower is common, 
the pale or swamp laurel, looking like a very 

45 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

small edition of our mountain latirel, while the 
white tufts of a cotton grass are everywhere 
noticeable. 

In July the white flowers of the famous ' * bake- 
apple," Rubus chamcBmorus, dear to the hearts 
and stomachs of the good people of Labrador, 
dot the turf, each flower having two or three 
leaves as companions. In August they ripen 
into reddish yellow berries as large as large 
raspberries, and are eagerly gathered and eaten 
raw, or made into sauces and preserves. A 
small blue berry is common, and is called 
" blue herts." This name is probably a con- 
traction and corruption of blue whortleberry. 
Moimtain cranberries are also common and are 
gathered for eating tmder the name of par- 
tridgeberry. The curlew berry, Empetrum 
nigrum, on which the curlew formerly fatted 
in countless numbers, is called blackberry and 
is also made into sauces. The fruit of the 
northern dwarf cornel or bunchberry is some- 
times gathered and cooked. It is called 
" cracker." 

The birds of course received my chief at- 

46 




w 






BATTLE HARBOUR 

tention. The resident species of Battle Island 
are soon enumerated, namely: several pairs 
of pipits, two or three pairs of savanna spar- 
rows, a couple of pairs of white-crowned 
sparrows, and a pair of spotted sandpipers. 
A pair of robins is said to have made the island 
its home last year. Horned larks from Great 
Caribou Island, and wandering crossbills and 
redpoll linnets are seen here, and doubtless 
many migrants stop and rest. 

On Great Caribou Island across the harbour 
the birds are more abundant, and the notes of 
a day spent there will give perhaps a fair idea 
of the birds to be found, in this alpine or boreal 
region. 

It was a beautiful day at the latter end of 
July when we were ferried in a fishing-boat 
across Battle Harbour, and climbed the rocks of 
Great Caribou Island. White-crowned spar- 
rows, the familiar door-yard bird of the bleak 
Labrador coast, were the first to greet us, 
and one sang a welcome from the turf-covered 
roof of a fish-house. At White Bear Islands, 
farther north, we had heard one singing glo- 

49 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

riously from the cross stay at the head of the 
mainmast of a schooner anchored close to the 
shore. It is common to see them picking up 
crimibs and insects about the houses, and a 
friend told of seeing one hopping along the 
body of a sleeping Eskimo dog, picking at the 
flies that surrounded him. 

The white-crowned sparrow is a strikingly 
handsome bird, and has well been called the 
aristocrat of his tribe, with his snow-white 
crown and white bars over the eyes. The area 
of the white crown is enlarged when he erects 
it in pride or passion, or when the wind blows 
it up. His call note is characteristic and easily 
recognized, a metallic chink. He also has a 
sharp chipping alarm note. His song is pleas- 
ing, although it has not the familiar charm 
of the song of his cousin, the Peabody bird, 
or the power and brilliancy of that of the fox- 
sparrow. Perhaps because I heard it so often 
in wet and stormy surroundings, the song rang 
in my head as more, wet, wetter wet, chezee. 
There is a long and somewhat mournful 
stress laid on the first note, and a buzz not 

50 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

easily expressed in words comes in near the 
end. 

Near the top of the rock I sat down, evi- 
dently close to a nest of a pair of these birds, 
for the anxious parents hopped about but a 
few yards distant, constantly uttering the 
sharp alarm chip. One of the birds had a bill 
full of insects, but this did not interfere with 
the chipping. The plumage of the two sexes 
is alike, but I fancied I could distinguish the 
female by her slighter form, the less brilliant 
colouration and her more anxious demeanour. 

American pipits or titlarks were everywhere, 
and equally solicitous about their young. 
Several of the latter with tails only partly 
grown were wagging them up and down as 
skilfully as their elders. Among the rocks and 
even on the ridgepoles of the tilts and fish- 
houses, the birds walked sedately, nodding 
their pretty heads in a dovelike way, and ever 
and anon wagging their tails. Their slim, 
graceful forms and quaker gray and brown 
plimiage make them very attractive birds. 

Their call-note, see-kit, so familiar on the 

51 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Massachusetts coast in the autumn migrations, 
was occasionally heard, but the common note 
at this season and one constantly repeated by 
reason of their solicitude for their young was 
a loud whistling tswit, resembling at times 
very closely the alarm note of the spotted 
sandpiper. 

The flight song of the pipit is well worth no- 
ting. A few were still indulging in this rhapsody 
early in July, but now family cares engrossed 
all their time. On July i ith, at Great Caribou 
Island, I was first introduced to the song of 
this bird. One standing on a rock in a valley 
far below me suddenly sprang up into the air, 
mounting nearly vertically but circling slightly. 
Up, up he went, singing repeatedly a simple 
refrain, che-whee, che-whee, with a vibratory 
resonance in the whee. The rocky cliff on 
whose brink I stood was about 150 feet high, 
but the joyous bird was borne still higher by 
the ardour of his song. Attaining an eminence 
of perhaps two hundred feet, perhaps more, 
above the ground, he checked himself and 
at once began the descent. Down he went, 

52 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

faster and faster, repeating his song at the 
same time faster and faster. Long before he 
reached the ground he set his wings and tipped 
from side to side to check his descent. After 
remaining quiet for a few moments he rose 
again. I timed him and found that he was 
twenty seconds in going up, emitting his re- 
frain forty-eight times. In the descent he 
was quicker, accomplishing it in ten seconds 
and singing thirty- two times. One must needs 
be alert to take note of such a rapid and bril- 
liant performance. 

Another bird that always claimed our es- 
pecial attention on the rocky coast of Labrador 
was to be found in scattered pairs all over the 
heights of Great Caribou Island. This was 
the horned lark, and well does he deserve 
his name, for in this, the breeding season, the 
points of black feathers projecting backward 
above the eyes of the males, like miniature 
horns, are plainly to be made out, so that with 
a glass one can distinguish the sexes at a glance. 
This bird, too, has a wonderful flight song, 
but of a different sort from that of the pipit, 

53 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

resembling in kind but not in quality the 
famous song of the English skylark. The 
bird suddenly mounts high into the air, going 
up silently in irregular circles, at times climb- 
ing nearly vertically to such a height that he 
appears but a little speck in the sky, — several 
hundred feet it seems to me. Arrived at this 
eminence he spreads his wings and soars, 
emitting meanwhile his song, such as it is, — 
one or two preliminary notes and then a series 
of squeaks and high notes with a bit of a fine 
trill. It has a jingly, metallic soimd like dis- 
tant sleigh-bells, although the squeaks remind 
one strongly of an old gate. The whole effect, 
however, is not unpleasant, — even melodious. 
The song finished, he flaps his wings a few times, 
closes them, and sails again, repeating his 
song. One bird I timed remained in the air 
three minutes, during which he repeated his 
song thirty-two times. Another sang twenty- 
four times and was in the heights one and a 
half minutes. All this time the bird is flying 
in irregular circles, or occasionally, if the wind 
be strong, simply heading up into it. The 

54 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

performance ended, he plunges headforemost 
down to the earth, reaching it in a marvellously 
short space of time. The descent is as silent 
as the ascent. Several times I found the birds 
lazily giving the same song, but with less 
energy and abandon, from a rock, and at 
other times I heard them singing above me out 
of sight in the fog. 

Advancing over the first high plateau, we 
descended into a grand amphitheatre among 
the rocks, with black, perpendicular walls 
and deep fissures and caverns. This was a 
place we delighted to explore, and in the early 
part of July snow-banks still remained. Here 
the familiar and ubiquitous savanna sparrow 
sang his grasshopper-like song, and the rest- 
lessly roving redpoll linnet flew about over- 
head, stopping on a rock or dwarf tree just 
long enough to display his crimson crown and 
breast to oiu- glasses, but never long enough 
for a good look. His chug chug as he flies re- 
calls the white-winged crossbill's call-note, and 
his sweet dee-ar resembles closely the similar 
note of his cousin goldfinch. Frequently does 

55 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

he wax melodious in his own way, and fly about 
in irregular circles alternately chug chugging 
and emitting a finely drawn rattle or trill. 

Farther on my companion and I had wan- 
dered some distance apart, but were suddenly 
drawn toward the same spot, each by the same 
object, — to discover the author of a song new 
to us. What was our surprise in finding the 
performer to be the familiar tree-sparrow, the 
" winter chippy " of New England. Both of 
us are familiar with the sweet but rather 
mournful song of this bird heard in the spring 
before his departure for the north, but neither 
could discover in this Labrador song any re- 
semblance to the New England one, and we 
heard it many times not only at Great Caribou 
Island but elsewhere. It was forttmately one 
of those rare songs that one can express in 
words, that mean something to others besides 
the writer. It was a simple ditty, frequently 
repeated, sometimes five or six times a minute. 
It always sounded like seet-seet — sit-iter — 
sweet-sweet. It was delightful to be able to 
memorize a song so easily, and the birds were 

56 




Rocky Amphitheatre, Great Caribou Island 




Wood-piles at Battle Harbour 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

most obliging in sitting on fir-bushes, — I can 
hardly call them trees, — within a few feet of 
us during the performance. The black spot 
on the breast seemed especially large, and the 
crown of a particularly fine chestnut colour. 
Altogether it was a delightful experience. 

After crossing an extensive sphagnum plain, 
with whose deceptive sponge-like character 
we were already familiar, a tempting little 
beach and the heat of the day, 72° at high noon, 
invited to a plunge in the clear waters. The 
temperature of the water I did not take with 
a thermometer, but it was consistent with 
an iceberg in the offing. My presence on the 
beach greatly disturbed a pair of ring-neck 
plovers, whose young were evidently con- 
cealed in the grass near at hand. They would 
alight near me, protesting in low, conversational 
tones. Then they would fly to near-by rocks, 
anon returning with great fury as if to strike 
me, but swerving off before this pitch of in- 
dignation was reached. On the ground the 
birds were constantly bobbing their heads, a 
nervous trick, a sort of habit chorea, common 

59 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

to many of the plover family. The yellow-legs 
and spotted sandpiper teeter nervously, as does 
also the water-thrush, while the palm- warbler 
and pipit w^ag their tails. It is, as it were, a 
case where a nervous habit has become fixed, 
as if among a race of men all should twitch 
their eyes or shrug their shoulders. 

Whether these traits in the different species 
of birds are inherited or due to imitation of 
their elders, — to their environment, in other 
words, — might of course be debated. In 
some of them, at least, the trait appears so 
early that it seems fair to suspect that it is 
inherited. If the eggs of a spotted sandpiper 
were hatched in an incubator, and the young 
teetered without ever seeing their parents, the 
hereditary character of this trait, which must 
originally have been acquired, would be evi- 
dent. As far as I know this experiment has 
never been tried. The eggs of gulls and terns 
have been hatched out in this way and the 
characteristic cry of the species has been given 
by the young who had never seen or heard 
their parents. In the same way a black skim- 

60 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

mer, a tern-like bird whose bill is especially 
adapted for skimming the water, has been 
hatched out away from the members of its 
species, and has skimmed the water like an 
expert. On the other hand, some bird songs 
do not seem sufficiently fixed in the species 
to be inherited, and the bird acquires the song 
of his associate of another species, yet he does 
inherit his own call-notes. The call-notes are 
of a more primitive character, and were ac- 
quired long before the song. In fact, some 
songs are evidently made up partly by a repe- 
tition of call-notes. 

It was now high time to return if we wished 
the customary fish dinner, but, although we 
had come away without bringing lunch, in- 
tending to spend the morning only, the interest 
of the day was too great, and we determined 
to press on and explore the uttermost parts 
of the island. We were then about half-w^ay 
across, after five hours' work, and had come 
perhaps a mile and a half. Verily the progress 
of the bird-lover is slow! 

Our decision to go dinnerless was soon re- 
el 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

warded by a great ornithological treat. As 
we were standing by one of the numerous 
clear pools of water in its setting of rock, sphag- 
num, and sedges, a bird of the snipe family 
suddenly flew by us uttering a harsh scolding 
twitter, directed evidently at us. It imme- 
diately plumped with a little splash into the 
water and rode the tiny waves as gracefully 
as a swan, nodding its head meanwhile like a 
dove. It was evidently a phalarope, and its 
small size, lance-Hke bill and brown throat 
markings showed it to be the northern phala- 
rope. " Sea-geese " they are called by New 
England fishermen, " gale-birds " by the Lab- 
radorians. At times it twittered rather sweetly 
like a barn-swallow, at times it emitted a harsh, 
rasping note, and occasionally we were favoured 
with a gentle little ee-ep. Once or twice it 
stopped to scratch its head with one foot, again 
it would circle about quickly on the water, 
again it would swim forward and continue 
its progression by walking up on to a rock. 
Then it would fly up and about us scolding 
threateningly, soon to return and plump down 

62 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

into the water. Occasionally it would swim 
among the sedges, skilfully threading its way 
in and out, bending low its head. It was a 
pretty sight, and we saw the same performance 
from two more in another pool. 

These birds were all three anxious fathers, 
and their young charges were doubtless con- 
cealed in the sedges. Among the phalaropes, 
women's rights prevail to an alarming extent. 
In fact, I hesitate to publish in this good town 
of Boston the full extent of the triumph of the 
sex in this group of birds, lest the ladies may be 
stimulated to greater efforts for their " rights." 
The truth must be told, however, that not only 
is the male left in charge of the young, but he 
is even responsible for their hatching out. 
Worse than this, he is so henpecked that he 
adopts a plainer costume than his mate of the 
superior sex, and is actually considerably 
smaller than she. It was paternal anxiety, 
therefore, that we were witnessing. The ladies 
were doubtless gadding off at sea. 

We were still pushing our way westward, 
when a fine rough-legged hawk, nearly black, 

63 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

but showing a lighter rump, flew by. Near 
Cape Harrison we had watched one poised 
motionless for several minutes, his wings spread 
to their full extent, sustained as thotigh he 
were a kite by the strong wind. 

The climax of the day was reached at the 
ultima thule. We had heard from time to time 
the harsh cra-ak and cru-uk of ravens, but 
hardly expected to find their nest. This latter 
consummation was rendered easy by the fact 
that a fully fledged young bird sat on a cliff 
fluttering his wings to be fed. On approaching 
the spot, the nest was seen in a recess of the 
cliff, about seventy feet above a pebbly beach, 
and fifteen or twenty feet from the top. It 
was entirely inaccessible without a rope, but 
we were content to examine it from a distance. 
It was as large as a great clothes-basket and 
made of weather-bleached branches of fir and 
spruce, twisted and gnarled as only arctic trees 
can be. The clear green water lapping the 
pebbly beach below, the pile of fragments 
fallen from the cliff, among which ferns grew 
in great profusion, the rugged and scarred 

64 



BATTLE HARBOUR 

face of the rock, the recess with its ancient 
nest, all made a picture I shall long remem- 
ber. 

Sed revocari gradus. It was now^ approaching 
supper-time, and we had to return. Three miles 
in a straight line seems but little, yet when 
part of it is deep sphagnum and reindeer moss, 
part is steep slippery rock, and valleys and 
hills are to be crossed, the distance is longer. 
However, our good hostess had saved our 
dinner, and we ate both dinner and supper 
together. They were both fish. 



65 



CHAPTER III 

A LABRADOR NIGHT 

" Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
Most musical, most melancholy 1 
Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, 
I woo, to hear thy even song." 

— " // Penseroso" Milton. 

" You may be a little cold some nights on mountain tops 
above the timber-line, — but you will see the stars, and by and 
by you can sleep enough in your town bed, or at least in your 
grave. Keep awake while you may in mountain mansions 
so rare." — yoAn Muir. 

|NE of the days of our enforced visit at 
Battle Island was devoted to the ex- 
ploration of a part of St. Louis Inlet, some 
ten miles distant, and a night was spent here in 
the open. 

At last we managed to procure two men 
who would brave the dangers of the flies, and 
sail us over in a fishing-boat to the Inlet. 
Every one at Battle Harbour seemed to have a 

66 



A LABRADOR NIGHT 

great dread of the flies and " skeeters," and 
most of them said that no money would 
tempt them to go. " Ye will be devoured 
alive, sorrhs, and y'r best friends will not 
know ye." However, the sturdy and good- 
natured blacksmith and his assistant, Ned, 
consented to go, and we set sail over the beau- 
tiful clear water at five one morning. So 
clear is the water in these regions that the 
bottom can be seen even at considerable 
depths. Lovely bomb-shaped ctenophores, 
transparent creatures like jellyfishes, swam 
about everywhere. Some had two long ten- 
tacles, coral red or yellow at the base. Others 
were the size and shape of a thimble. The 
dark red arctic jellyfish with its long and 
nettle-bearing tentacles brightened the water 
in spots. Again the water looked dark with 
masses of swimming caplins, a fish about the 
size of a smelt, used for cod bait. At the 
entrance of the harbour, they were so numerous 
that many were stranded, flopping, on the 
rocks. 

Partly sailing and partly rowing, we reached ^ 

67 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Green Island, around which small parties of 
black guillemots, sea-pigeons, or pigeons, as 
they are called, were swimming and diving. 
Their jet-black colour relieved by the large white 
patch on their wings makes them conspicuous 
objects whether swimming or flying. Their 
small heads and pointed bills and their nervous 
habit of dabbing at the water also serve to 
distinguish them. They go under water with 
a flop, spreading both wings, for they actually 
fly under water. They were evidently breeding 
in the rocky clefts and under the great broken 
masses of the island. 

The black guillemot is one of the most 
abimdant sea-birds all along the coast. I 
attribute their nimibers to their shyness and to 
their skill in diving, so that they can more 
easily escape the fishermen's guns, while their 
habit of nesting in deep clefts and under rocks 
makes their eggs more secure from depredation. 
It is possible, and I offer this merely as a fanci- 
ful suggestion, the name pigeon may have been 
given to the black guillemot from its habit of 
bobbing its head in dabbing at the water, as 

68 



A LABRADOR NIGHT 

the pigeon bobs its head in walking. It is 
interesting to note that the word dove is derived 
from a word meaning diver. These birds are 
therefore quits as far as the interchange of 
their names goes. 

Small flocks of eiders, the American eider 
which breeds along the coast, passed us from 
time to time, flying low over the water. The 
strikingly marked males with the black bellies 
and white breasts, necks, and backs are easily 
recognized. The female is a great brown bird, 
looking very dark in some lights, and entirely 
lacks distinctive markings. Both birds have, 
however, a characteristic way of holding the 
bill pointing downward obliquely at a con- 
siderable angle instead of straight out before 
them like most ducks. This habit, we found, 
made a capital field mark. By this we could 
often recognize the birds when the light pre- 
vented our making out any colours. 

Passing by Duck and Captain Jack's Islands, 
in St. Louis Inlet, we entered the little Mary 
Harbour. Now a harbour on the Labrador coast 
does not always mean, as one would suppose, 

69 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

an anchoring place for vessels, with perhaps 
wharves and a village or at least a few houses, 
for in this case, as in others, there was not a 
sign of human habitation, whether on shore or 
on the water. For the time being, Mary Harbour 
belonged to us. The men set their salmon nets 
at the mouth of the Mary River, which rushes 
down over rocks in rapids and small falls. We 
soon caught more trout than we could eat, 
the men with strings tied to crooked alder 
sticks, baiting their hooks with pork, and I 
with a fly rod and flies, and I am frank to confess 
that the men caught the most and the largest 
fish. 

The Mary River is worth exploring, and we 
foimd much of interest, as we pushed our way 
back along its rocky and swampy shores. It 
expanded at frequent intervals, from a bois- 
terous stream into calm bays or ponds, bordered 
by swamps of alders, larches, and black spruces, 
with grasses and sedges pushing out into the 
shallow water. 

The barren hilltops around were glacial 
smoothed Laurentian rocks, with their rein- 

70 



A LABRADOR NIGHT 

deer moss and sphagntim, and curlew berry and 
other plants with which we had become famil- 
iar at Battle Harbotir. And there is no more 
comfortable bed than this same reindeer moss 
and curlew berry vine, which has a springiness 
like that of a hair mattress. On a bed of this 
in the lee of a rock and in a groove made by a 
glacier thousands of years ago, we stretched 
ourselves at simset, after an arduous day on 
the water and on land. Sunset was at eight 
o'clock. 

An hour later I recorded the interest- 
ing sights and sounds. The light is still good. 
There is a pink glow in the northwest, which 
is flecked with dark blue clouds. Overhead 
the sky is deep blue and is luminous with soft 
fleecy clouds. No stars have yet appeared, 
and there is a gentle breeze from the south- 
west, from which the ledge of rock protects 
me as I lie on the hilltop. From behind comes 
the continuous roar of the rapids and falls 
of the Mary River. At my feet, looking like a 
winding land-locked lake, is Mary Harbour, sur- 
roimded by barren rocky hills, the little valleys 

71 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

green with firs, spruces, and larches, which in 
places rise to a height of fifteen feet. 

In the valley immediately below me, a group 
of gnarled and twisted spruces calls to my mind 
one of Dora's illustrations for Dante's " Inferno." 
The spruces have risen to a height of five 
or six feet, bent and broken by winter's snows, 
twisted and torn by stormy winds. At last 
they have succumbed to fire, and their bleached 
trunks and limbs, standing out against the 
dark backgroimd of lichen-covered rock look 
like lost souls writhing in purgatory. 

Of the bird voices, the most beautiful is that 
of the hermit-thrush, whose divine song has 
been wafted to my ears at frequent intervals 
during the evening. His is a pure and holy 
ecstasy, and no better setting could it have 
than this lonely bay, with its subdued roar of 
waters for an undertone. The song ceased at 
nine o'clock. 

During the evening I have heard almost 
constantly, the calls of Alice's thrush, a night- 
hawk like speke, but varied greatly from time 
to time, so that it also resembles the familiar 

72 



A LABRADOR NIGHT 

call of the veery. At last two birds begin to 
sing about nine o'clock and continue singing 
for ten or fifteen minutes. An interesting song 
it is, with a single or double preliminary note, 
followed by a long veery-like vibration, sweet 
yet mournful. How unlike the song of the 
olive-backed thrush, yet the birds look so much 
alike that a person imfamiliar with the two 
might well doubt that they were distinct 
species. 

The white-crowned sparrow, the most com- 
mon bird of this region, sings frequently all 
the evening until shortly after nine, and one 
white-throated sparrow gives his lovely pea- 
body song several times, but is silent after a 
quarter of nine. A spotted sandpiper fre- 
quently complains, but I heard him not after 
half -past nine. At this hour there is still a glow 
in the west, and but a few stars are to be seen 
in the blue sky. At ten I can easily see to tell 
time by my watch. All is silent save the roar 
of the waters which soon lull me to sleep. 

At midnight I am awake long enough to 
wonder at the faint colour still in the west, and 

73 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

to tell time by my watch. I sleep again imtil 
two. The glow is still in the west. Can the 
Sim be going to rise where it went down, or 
am I mistaken as to the points of the compass ? 
I soon realize that the centre of the pink glow 
is toward the northeast, and that the glow 
in the northwest, where the sun set, is very 
faint in comparison. At a quarter-past two 
a spotted sandpiper calls, and the note of a 
white-winged crossbill, as he flies over, is 
heard. At 2.25 the hermit- thrushes begin to 
sing, and shortly afterward the Alice's thrushes. 
Then I become aware of the familiar tindertone 
of robins' songs, and strange they sound in 
this wilderness. At twenty minutes of three 
the first white-crowned sparrows time their 
curious and somewhat mournful lay, and 
shortly afterward the very different and more 
beautiful song of the white-throated sparrow 
is heard, rising slowly and deliberately from 
the glen across the harbour. A shelldrake 
flies down from the ponds for his morning fish, 
uttering a croaking quack. 

The surface of the harbour stretching out 
74 



A LABRADOR NIGHT 

before me, with its irregular winding shores, 
and its setting of dark rounded hills, is now 
all aglow with the reflection of the reddening 
sky. It is nearly calm, but the surface of the 
water is here and there roughened by a slight 
breeze. There is nothing soft in the outline 
of these hills. They are stern and uncompro- 
mising, and heaped about in wild confusion. 
In these surroimdings one can thoroughly 
appreciate the bird voices heard on every hand. 
There is no discordant note. All is perfect 
harmony. 

The stinrise is of wonderful beauty. The 
glow in the northeast becomes a bright yellow, 
while above this float pink and crimson clouds 
with dark blue upper edgings. The colours 
intensify. There is a pink glow among the 
hills, and the distant dark clouds are now all 
luminous with a pink blush. Again a change, 
and the clouds above fade, and at quarter 
of four the upper edge of his majesty the sun 
appears in a valley between the hills. 

Now a gentle rain begins to fall and a rain- 
bow appears in the west. I unconsciously 

75 



ALONG THE LABRADOR GOAST 

repeat to myself, " Rainbow in the morning, 
sailors take warning," and I also realize that 
this is Friday, the thirteenth. The whole is 
certainly a giand combination for misfortune, 
but I keep my ideas to myself, thinking that 
the men would decline to sail if they knew all 
the fearful possibilities. 

Breakfast was eaten on the rocks by the 
shore in a pouring rain, but the bacon, red 
trout, bread, and tea were delicious, and oil- 
skins and sou'westers kept us dry. The poor 
men had spent a wretched night with the 
mosquitoes. Ned had had a hard time. " The 
skiters pecked me all night, sorrh. Me 'ands 
h'eeched so, sorrh, I could not sleep," and he 
walked back and forth slapping the " skiters " 
all night, and cursing them. The blacksmith 
had got his knees wet in the soft sphagnum 
moss, where he had insisted on pitching the 
tent, so he had gone out to the boat and tried 
to sleep on the rock ballast with a red handker- 
chief tied over his head and face. He believed 
with the Irishman, " if you can't be aisy, be 
as aisy as you can." However, he was in very 

76 



A LABRADOR NIGHT 

good spirits, as he had caught two good-sized 
salmon and two large trout in his nets. He 
was anxious that I should put the larger salmon 
on my hook and pull him in, so I could say I 
caught him. " And I will swear . that the 
gintleman caught him hisself, sorrh." How- 
ever, I did not succumb to the temptation. 

We set sail in an " Irishman's hurricane " — 
plenty of rain and no wind. As my friend and 
I were talking of birds, the blacksmith said 
that the prettiest bird he ever saw in Mary 
Harbour stood fishing from the rocks. " She 
was Micky Loomer's daughter, sorrh. He was 
an Englishman, sorrh, the prettiest man iver 
you would see, sorrh. He married an Eskimo 
squaw, very poor-looking, sorrh. She had but 
the one eye, sorrh. They had no children, so 
they adopted this girl. She was the child of a 
man named Tubbs, sorrh. And a very foine- 
looking girl as iver I see, sorrh. But when she 
became a woman, sorrh, she was very ornary- 
looking. Yes, Micky Loomer and his squaw 
lived in an igloo by the falls for thirty years, 
sorrh. This was only in the summer. They 

77 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

were twenty miles back in the woods in the 
winters. It was trout and salmon fishing he 
was in the summer, sorrh, and trapping in the 
winter." " What did he do with all his 
money? " " Rum, sorrh. Bottle 'Arbor rum, 
sorrh. He could have had a barrel of money, 
sorrh, but it all went to rum, sorrh. Oh, yes, 
he is dead, but he lived to be nearly eighty, 
sorrh." 

As we passed a point, a duck waddled down 
from the rocks and swam off. Its light colour 
and cocked up tail suggested a gull, but with 
a glass the characteristic markings of a male 
king eider-duck were easily made out, — the 
projection at the base of the bill and the 
spectacle-like appearance of the side face. 

We soon caught a good breeze and bounded 
over and through the water, but were well 
protected against rain and spray by our 
" oilers " and reached Battle Harbour safely. 



78 



CHAPTER IV 

THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

" The sea-gulls wheeled around the rocky cape 

And skimmed their long wings lightly o'er the flood ; 
The fog rose up in many a spectral shape." 

— S. C. E. Mayo. 

" North, East, and South, there are reefs and breakers 
You would never dream of in smooth weather, 
That toss and gore the sea for acres, 

Bellowing and gnashing and snarling together." 

— J. R. Lowell. 

T?ROM the rocks of Battle Island some bright- 
eyed boys discovered the smoke of the 
mail-steamer Virginia Lake coming down from 
St. Johns, Newfoimdland, about ten o'clock 
on the morning of July 15th. At noon we were 
climbing up her steep steps as she lay at anchor 
at the northern mouth of the harbour, sur- 
rotmded by a throng of fishing-boats. 

The Virginia Lake is a staunch screw steamer, 
considerably larger than the Home, and well 
fitted for conflicts with the ice, as she is em- 

79 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

ployed as a sealer every spring. Her decks 
were cluttered with lumber, oil casks, and odds 
and ends of every description. She had not the 
air of a well-appointed yacht or tourist steamer, 
but both she and her bluff captain gave one 
the impression of staunchness and reliability. 
To the north there is but one lighthouse on the 
whole rugged coast, and no fog-horns in a region 
where fog abounds, as well as rocks and reefs 
innumerable and imchartered. A priori the 
trip seemed hazardous, but after one knows 
the Virginia Lake and Captain Parsons, a feeling 
of confidence takes the place of any anxiety 
that may have existed. The knowledge of the 
coast shown by the good captain, and his 
conscientious care in guiding the vessel are 
imexcelled. Every rock, every shoal, every 
tickle, he knows as one knows the streets of 
one's native city. A glance through the fog at 
a headland, the counterpart to tint rained eyes 
of hundreds along the coast, tells him at once 
where he is. The " rote " or sound of the surf 
on the rocks, or the echo of the whistle from a 
cliff imseen in the fog, give him the needed clue 

80 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

to his position. In doubt he anchors and takes 
no undue chances. He is always on the bridge. 
Like the bears he must take a long winter's 
sleep to make up for his summer's vigil. 

For twelve days, — days packed full of 
interesting incidents and sights, — we made our 
home on the Virginia Lake. Diuing this time 
we steamed as far north as the Moravian Mission 
of Nain in latitude 56° 30' north, and returned 
to our starting-place at Battle Harbour. Nain 
is the most northern port of call of this mail- 
boat, and is not often reached imtil August 
on accoimt of the ice. We were" certainly 
fortunate to reach it. 

Going down north, — it is with a wrench 
that I use this Labradorian phraseology instead 
of up north as the maps would seem to indicate, 
— we stopped at some forty-five ports of call, 
and at about the same number on the return. 
At one of these places, Hawk's Harbour, where 
there is a whale factory, we moored alongside 
of a wharf; at all others we dropped anchor 
while a small boat, the " mail-boat," was sent 
ashore. The delivery of the mail on the way 

81 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

north, as well as the landing of freight and 
passengers, is one of the chief functions of the 
steamer. On the return the answers to the 
letters are received, as well as casks of fish-oil, 
and any other freight that is ready. Both 
going and returning, the ship's doctor, who is 
employed for the purpose by the Newfoundland 
government, holds clinics in his little cabin, 
or visits those too ill to come aboard. Doctor 
Boyle is a busy man, and right conscientious 
work he does. On one day, when we stopped 
at a dozen stations crowded with fishermen, 
the doctor attended to nearly one hundred 
patients between dawn and midnight. At 
every harbour boats put off with patients for 
his consideration. Many of them are hardy 
and robust looking, and pull manfully at the 
oars, but have some slight or fancied ailment. 
They go back happy with a bottle of black 
stuff. Others, with bandaged hands or arms, 
are suffering from salt water sores, deep ugly 
ulcers, that need skilled attention. Many a poor 
soul, male or female, comes aboard with a 
swollen face, having waited perhaps two weeks 

82 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

for the mail-boat and the doctor to rid them 
of the aching tooth. They go back triumphantly 
happy, leaving gory streaks in the water 
behind them. Others -are hardly able to drag 
themselves up the ship's steps and show 
evidences of deep suffering in their faces. Some 
of these the doctor sends back relieved, others 
cannot be left behind and are taken care of 
aboard the ship until they reach one of Doctor 
Grenfell's hospitals or are returned to their 
friends or a hospital in Newfoimdland. On 
board the Virginia Lake they are kindly minis- 
tered to by the doctor and by his nurse, the 
poetic Peddel, author of the " Poems of New- 
foundland," a little book I was glad to purchase 
of the author, and in which he kindly wrote 
his name and mine. The poems are interesting, 
and as the author remarked, " There is a deal 
of deep thought in them." Other patients the 
doctor visits ashore, going either in the mail- 
boat, or in a boat sent by the patients' friends. 
The poor patient on shore must be content with 
but few visits during the season, as the comings 
and goings of the Virginia Lake are few and 

83 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

uncertain. The doctor does the best he can 
under the circumstances, he gives good service 
and shirks not, and he appears to be appreciated. 

Parts of the coast that we saw imperfectly 
or not at all on our way north, owing to fog 
or the lateness of the hour, we were often able 
to see more perfectly on our retiun. In this 
way, a little patched it is true, we were able to 
get a fairly clear idea of the entire coast. For 
the sake of simplicity I have described it in 
continuity, as in my account of the southern 
coast. 

Here, as always, the observation of birds 
was our chief object, so our post was either 
on the bridge or on the steamer's bows. Here 
we stood noting the nimibers and species of 
birds except when we were eating or sleeping, 
and it is only fair to say that we did not cut 
short either of these functions. As an appe- 
tizer and sleep inducer I can highly recommend 
the air of Labrador. 

At last we are off! The Virginia Lake steams 
steadily north into a northeast wind. Fog 
drifts in on all sides. The stranded icebergs 

84 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

that we have watched from Battle Island 
must needs remain unphotographed. The 
circle of tumbled hills about St. Louis Bay is 
blotted out by the fog. However, "It is an 
ill wind that blows nobody good," for, owing 
to this same storm, we are treated to a sight 
long to be remembered. As we steam beside 
a headland of rough and broken granitic rocks, 
now visible for a moment, now wrapped in the 
fog, we find ourselves in the midst of a great 
nimiber of shearwaters, the " hagdons " of 
the sailors, birds that delight in stormy weather 
and are rarely seen close to the land except 
at such times. The flock extends for several 
miles and we venttire to estimate the numbers 
at five thousand. It is but an estimate, and 
I am inclined to think an imderestimate. In this 
vast throng, continually rising and skimming 
out to sea, only three sooty shearwaters can 
be seen. All the rest are greater shearwaters. 
The three look as black as crows in comparison 
with their white and gray relatives. The 
sailors call them black hagdons. 

These shearwaters are interesting birds, and 

85 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

it is only of comparatively late years that they 
have been understood. Although July is our 
midsummer, it is with them midwinter, but 
not of their discontent if one may judge by 
their graceful, happy flight. They breed in 
the southern hemisphere, near the antarctic 
regions, and come north across the equator to 
spend their winter, our summer, with us. We 
had seen a few from time to time in our voy- 
ages, but were quite unprepared for the mul- 
titude that now surrounded us. Somewhat 
smaller than a herring gull, their tapering, 
cigar-shaped bodies and long, narrow, clipper- 
built wings give them a grace and speed that 
are hardly attained in the gulls. With out- 
stretched and almost motionless wings, slightly 
decurved, they glide over the waves, following 
them so closely that one momentarily expects 
to see the birds disappear in the foam. Again 
they swing about in graceful curves, turning 
from side to side, so that sometimes one, some- 
times the other, wing almost touches the great 
surges. All their motions on the wing are 
graceful in the extreme and devoid of any 

86 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

appearance of effort. Again they ride the 
water lightly in companies of a hundred, or 
swim rapidly over the stirface to seize some 
delectable morsel, holding their heads up, 
their wings partly spread. In rising from the 
water the birds show less grace, and a large 
flock makes the water foam as they try to push 
away the surface, paddling vigorously with 
their feet. 

In former times, whenever bait was scarce, 
fishermen used to catch them with hook and 
line as they crowded about their boats on the 
Banks, strip off their skins, and chop them 
up into small pieces to bait the trawls. A 
fisherman at Battle Harboiir had shot a couple 
for his supper while we were there. They are 
good eating when skinned and freed from fat, 
as I can attest from an experiment in former 
years. 

The characteristic thing about the numer- 
ous harbours along this coast is the fact that 
they are invisible imtil one is actually in them. 
The steamer suddenly turns in toward a rocky 
coast, barren, wind-swept. There is no sign 

87 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

of human life, except perhaps a cairn of rocks 
on some high hill. These cairns are common 
along the shore, and bear for some unknown 
reason the curious name of " American men." 
On goes the steamer at full speed as if she were 
bent on casting herself on the cruel rocks that 
are lashed by the surf. " Starboard easy," 
calls the captain, and the steamer turns a bit, 
and opens up a narrow tickle, into which she 
glides, passing the high preciptous rocks on 
either side so closely that one can almost toss 
the proverbial biscuit ashore. Again the ves- 
sel ttirns and emerges, after half a mile perhaps 
of this ticklish course, into a wonderful land- 
locked harbour, a mountain tarn as it were, in 
which a small fleet of vessels is riding in safety, 
and along whose shores are clustered fish- 
stages and tilts, and all is bustle and activity. 
The first of these stopping-places, and they 
are all alike and all different, is Spear Harbour, 
and I go ashore in the mail-boat, and clamber 
up a fish-stage dripping with fish " gurry." 
While John delivers the mail and flirts with 
all the petticoats in sight, I scramble arotmd 

88 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

over the rocks, noting all the birds I can, 
picking a, few flowers and gathering lichens 
for botanical friends in Cambridge. Climbing 
a steep ascent, I look down into another moun- 
tain tarn, similar to the one where the steamer 
lies at anchor, except that this is fresh water. 
Sometimes in the short fifteen minutes or half- 
hour ashore I make note of some interesting 
habit of pipit or horned lark or other bird. 
But John is calling me and I hurry back, 
jimiping from rock to rock and splashing 
through the wet sphagnum, for fear of being 
left in this barren spot until the steamer re- 
turns. I should enjoy the exile exceedingly, 
no doubt, but then I should miss the rest of 
the trip and the wonders beyond. I jump into 
the boat and take my turn at an oar as the 
air is nipping, or grasp the tillerless rudder- 
head and guide the boat to the steamer. Ar- 
rived there we worm our way in between her 
sides and the mass of fishing-boats clustered 
about her steps. These same ship's steps, by 
the way, have had repairs, so that one step 
near the top is a little higher than the others. 

89 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Every man, with few exceptions, trips on this 
and gracefully sprawls forward before reaching 
the steamer's decks. 

The coast along here is rugged and fine. Be- 
tween Occasional Harbour — " Occasionable " 
as it is usually called — and Square Island we 
passed a great arch of rock, through which we 
could see the green bushy forest in a mountain 
gully beyond. The cliff that frames this " hole 
in the wall " is two or three himdred feet high 
and the cliffs extend some distance along the 
shore at this point, which bears the name of 
Cape St. Michael. 

Snug Harbour is indeed a snug harbour. Great 
rocky walls surroimd a placid basin in which 
float a brig and several schooners. One schooner 
is anchored close to a small iceberg that has 
managed to wander in through the narrow 
but deep tickle. Our steward takes advantage 
of this opportunity and hacks off great pieces 
of this Greenland ice and brings it aboard in 
the mail-boat. There are several other ice- 
bergs at the mouth of the narrow tickle that 
are imable to gain entrance, 

90 




Comfort Bight and the "Virginia Lake" 





Whale Factory at Forteau 

Photograph by Dr. E. A. Crockett 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

At Hawk's Harbour, next day, we pass the 
dead body of a whale at the moorings, and 
come alongside of a wharf at the whale factory. 
The whale is a finback and shows his white and 
slashed sides uppermost as he floats. While 
we are here the whaling steamer Hawk arrives 
from a cruise, and all is excitement to dis- 
cover whether she has any game. On she 
comes with almost twice the speed of our 
ship, with her little gun pointing straight 
ahead from the bow. Her trip has been fruit- 
less, she bears no spoils. 

Whale factories are neither picturesque nor 
savoury. They have sprung up in abundance 
along the Newfoundland and Labrador coast 
during the last few years. This form of whaling 
is a new industry, and was established in 
Newfoimdland in 1898. We saw two whale 
factories on the Newfoundland coast, namely, 
at Lark Harbour and Hawke Bay, and three on 
the Labrador coast, — at Forteau, Cape Charles, 
and here at Hawk's Harbour. They are all 
alike, — an ugly square box-like building, 
several smaller bmldings, great tanks for 

93 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

steaming, boiling, and settling, a black cylin- 
drical chimney and a slip or inclined plane, 
very slippery in sooth, on which the bodies of 
the whales are drawn up. Every bit of the 
whale is utilized. Oil is made of the blubber, 
the whalebone, so called, in the mouth, is of 
course valuable, the real bones are ground and 
used for Hme, and the rest of the great carcass 
is made into " guano." In fact, all is used but 
the smell, and this is lavishly wasted about 
the neighbourhood. 

Each factory has its powerful little steamer 
which courses the seas on the alert for its es- 
pecial prey, into which from gun or cannon 
motinted on a pivot in the bow it discharges a 
five-foot harpoon of about one hundred pounds 
in weight. Concealed in the tip of the harpoon 
is a bomb with time-fuse attached. This ex- 
plodes inside the body of the whale. A stout 
line is attached to the harpoon and to a powerful 
winch on the steamer's deck. How long the 
whales can survive this warfare is a serious 
question. 

Again we turned north, and sailed first along 

94 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

a rugged and precipitous coast and then along 
a flatter one. In fact, parts of the coast are 
low and devoid of scenic features, but their 
desolation and wildness give them always an 
interest and charm. We are always among a 
maze of islands that line the coast, and we cast 
anchor at Bolsters' Rock, Comfort Bight, 
Frenchman's Island, Punch Bowl, Spotted Is- 
lands, Batteau, Domino, Indian Tickle, and 
all the rest. 

At Frenchman's Island my companion found 
a nest of yoting horned larks, sunk in the 
reindeer moss and matted arctic vegetation. 
It was neatly made of dried grass and a few 
feathers. It contained three dark-skinned 
nestlings covered sparingly with light sulphur 
yellow down. There was also one gray egg 
thickly speckled with fine brown spots which 
formed a distinct ring at the larger end. 

The homed lark is an interesting bird and one 
of which we made special study while in Lab- 
rador, for there are many points to be cleared 
up as to the exact status of these birds in that 
coimtry. From the point of view of the student 

95 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

of evolution and geographical variation, the 
homed larks are of great interest. In America 
alone over a score of forms, or subspecies 
as they are called, have been named. The 
extremes are very different, but by numerous 
connecting links they so glide into each other 
that it is often difficult to separate the differ- 
ent forms. These differences are due to dif- 
ferences in environment acting on a peculiarly 
plastic organization. In this case the student 
is not troubled by missing links, but rather 
the reverse, an emharras de richesses as it 
were. 

While the deep fiords extending into the 
land, and the numerous islands along the coast, 
all point to a former subsidence of the land 
and constitute *' drowned " valleys and coast, 
there is also very palpable evidence of recent 
elevation of the land. At frequent intervals 
all along the shore we saw splendid examples 
of raised beaches. Thus at Spotted Islands 
above the present beach of rounded pebbles 
and cobblestones was a green patch, above 
which was another distinct cobblestone beach. 

96 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

Again there was a green stretch of turf, and 
again another distinct beach, elevated sixty 
feet or more above the present level. Every- 
where the rocks belong to the ancient group 
of granites and syenites, and are everywhere 
crossed by black dikes of trap rock. These 
dikes in places stand out black and forbidding, 
but are usually worn back into chasms. Where 
they cross the hillsides, they at times appear 
like straight green roads, in a country 
where no roads are, for in sooth there is not a 
road along this whole coast of Labrador, much 
less a horse or cow\ In the shelter of the de- 
pression caused by the erosion of the dikes, 
fir and spruce, Labrador tea and laurel, manage 
to exist, while all around is wind-swept rock, 
naked except for the lichen growth which 
stains its rugged sides. Boulders are common 
along this coast, left by the glaciers. Some 
appear to be resting so insecurely on the 
hillsides that one wonders whether a good 
push would not send them rolling down the 
sides. 

At Batteau there were fifty schooners crowded 

97 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

into the narrow harbour and fishing-boats galore. 
Among the fish-stages and turf-covered tilts 
on the shore, children and women fiimished 
bits of bright colour. All was activity, and 
fish splitting was going on at the stages 
ashore and on the schooner decks in the har- 
bour. 

Here the captain of a Danish topmast schooner 
came aboard to pay his respects to our com- 
mander. He was a stout man, dressed in 
rough tweeds and wearing a red fez. His 
picturesqueness was increased by a long china 
pipe which he was solemnly smoking. 

On the third day of our cruise northward 
we steamed into Sandwich Bay and dropped 
anchor off Cartwright. It was the first time 
I had seen these magic letters, H. B. C, — 
Hudson's Bay Company. What a wealth of 
interesting history they recall! For over 230 
years this company has been buying furs and 
skins of the natives of British North America. 
No wonder the letters have been interpreted, 
** Here before Christ," for the company gen- 
erally gets ahead of the missionaries. Cart- 

98 



n 



THE EASTERN COAST OP LABRADOR 

Wright consists of the Hudson's Bay Company's 
btdldings, — a great white painted storehouse 
on a wharf, and the factor's house, a comfort- 
able-looking mansion, also painted white, — 
and in addition two or three other houses. 
Everything is as neat as wax about the post. In 
the store one can buy almost anything except 
furs. Furs are for the company's disposal the 
other side of the water, at prices that would 
probably astonish the natives who won them 
from the wilderness. 

We had over an hour on shore, and we pushed 
back through the dripping spruce and fir woods, 
here ten or twelve feet high, and explored a 
barren hillside. White-crowned sparrows were 
everywhere about the post, robins were com- 
mon. We found a pair each of juncos, savanna 
sparrows, pipits, fox-sparrows, and blackpoll 
warblers, while redpoll linnets were romping 
about in small flocks, singing as best they know 
how, which is not saying much. 

In the small graveyard at Cartwright is a 
white stone with this inscription : 

LOFC. 

101 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

In Memory of 

George Cartwright 

Captain in his Majesty's 37th Regiment of Foot 

Second son of William Cartwright, Esq., of 

Marnham Hall in Nottinghamshire. 

Who in March 1770 made a settlement 

on the coast of Labrador 

Where he remained for sixteen years. 

He died at Mansfield in Nottinghamshire 

the 19 th of February 1S19. 

also of 

John Cartwright 

Lieutenant of the Guernsey, five years surrogate of 

Newfoundland 

And afterwards Major of the Nottinghamshire militia 

He died on the 23rd of September 1824. 

To these distinguished brothers, who in zealously protect- 
ing and befriending paved the way for the introduction of 
Christianity to the natives of these benighted regions. 

This memorial is affectionately inscribed 

by their niece Frances Dorothy Cartwright. 

I was much interested in reading these lines, 
as I had ah-eady an affection for George Cart- 
wright, of whom I shall have more to say in a 
later chapter. 

As we left Sandwich Bay we passed the 
Horsechops Island, with its black basaltic 
cHffs rising to a height of over three hundred 

102 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

feet. The red syenite and green alpine vege- 
tation and black basalt produce beautiful colour 
effects. Unfortunately the Mealy Mountains, 
two thousand feet high and over, whose range 
extends along the northerly shore of Sandwich 
Bay, were then blotted out by the fog, but we 
were rewarded by a splendid view of them on 
our return trip. Dark blue and forbidding 
they looked, but they were surrounded by 
the wonderful yellow glow of an arctic sunset, 
which lit up the sky and sea. 

The Virginia Lake anchored in some qtiiet 
harbour that night, for fog and rain made prog- 
ress impossible on this rugged coast, but early 
in the morning she was steaming up Hamilton 
Inlet. This is also called Groswater or Eskimo 
Bay, while beyond Rigolet it is called Lake 
Melville. Into the head of this empties the 
Hamilton River, whose waters plimge down 
760 feet in twelve miles, with a sheer descent of 
302 feet. These Grand Falls have but seldom 
been seen by white men. It was from Rigolet 
that Hubbard set forth on his ill-fated expedi- 
tion. 

103 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Hamilton Inlet is the largest of the fiords 
on the Labrador coast, stretching back 150 
miles into the interior, with an average width 
of foiirteen miles. As we steamed along in the 
quiet water we could watch the hills on either 
side, here white with reindeer moss and there 
dark with spruces and firs. Arrived at Rigolet, 
we prepared for a day in the woods, as there 
was much freight to be disembarked, and the 
timber had to be made into a raft before it 
could be got ashore. All was bustle and expecta- 
tion. Our steamer anchored in a lovely basin. 
Near at hand lay the Hudson's Bay Company's 
steamer Pelican, a rakish-looking vessel well 
prepared for battling with the ice. She was 
soon to start for Hudson Bay, going north 
around Cape Chidley. What visions of ex- 
ploration and adventure, rare birds and won- 
derful scenery, this steamer evoked ! I felt the 
" lure of the Labrador wild " tugging hard at 
my heart-strings, — whatever this may mean 
from the point of view of an anatomist. If one 
could only lead a double life in the actual sense 
and be in two places at once! • 

104 




Rigolet 




The Hudson's Bay Company's Steamer "Pelican' 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

On the other side was anchored the schooner 
Swallow, whose crew appeared to be largely 
Eskimos clad in motley patched garments. 
The captain had a broad, flat, Eskimo face, 
with a faint and straggling moustache, while 
a fringe of scattered hairs surrounded his chin. 
The faces of two small Eskimo boys in the crew 
seemed to be mostly grins. We jumped into 
the mail-boat and were soon at the wharf, back 
of which extend the white buildings of the 
Hudson's Bay Post, for this post is the whole 
of Rigolet. There are a half a dozen buildings 
in all, the stores, the comfortable factor's 
house, and several smaller buildings, all con- 
nected by a board walk with a white painted 
railing. Groups of half-breeds loitered about, 
some partly Eskimo, others plainly Indian. 
Eskimo dogs were lying about everywhere, 
resting in anticipation of the hard winter. 
They were for the most part yellowish white 
in colour. 

First I go shopping and purchase a pair of 
mittens, for my woollen gloves do not keep out 
the cold on shipboard. I also buy a pair of 

107 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

** skin boots," made of shaved sealskin and so 
neatly sewed by the Eskimos that they are 
water-tight. My companion adds to his col- 
lection of racquettes or snow-shoes by pur- 
chasing a beautiful pair of " beaver-tails." 
These and the " long-tails " are apparently 
not so commonly used as the oval tailless 
racquettes. 

I am also so fortunate as to be able to pur- 
chase a couple of Eskimo dolls from one of the 
natives. These dolls, fourteen inches in height, 
represent a male and female Eskimo, and are 
dressed in fur with every detail of the clothing 
perfect, from the hoods to the neatly made 
skin boots. The tail of the sack of the female 
doll distinguishes her sex, as does also a fur- 
clad papoose in the hood. The faces are 
carved in wood and show the flat coimtenance 
and oblique eyes. 

Shod in our skin boots and oilskins, we 
journey into the forest, here reaching the 
respectable height of twenty feet in places. 
Water is everywhere, and the sphagnum and 
reindeer moss are soaking with it. It requires 

108 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

considerable faith to believe that the thin skin 
boots will keep out water, but they stand the 
test perfectly this day. We feel as gay as the 
proverbial sailor ashore, although the mos- 
quitoes and flies do their best to quench our 
spirits. How glad I am I am not treading the 
narrow fiords and winding tickles of my native 
city ! Fox-sparrows and white-crowns are 
singing. The elusive Tennessee warbler mocks 
us as he has done before. We hear his 
song, but cannot catch even a glimpse of the 
singer, 

Ernest Thompson says that it is safe to 
attribute any strange shrieks or wails to the 
Canada jay when in a region where this bird 
is to be found. This is a good rule, for it would 
require much ink to record all the variety of 
groans, squeaks, rattles, and shrieks uttered 
by this bird. Besides his voice, his fluffy body 
and short roimded wings, on which he is con- 
stantly sailing from tree to tree, make him 
conspicuous. The Labrador bird is a distinct 
subspecies with a darker plumage. The young 
Labrador jays, as well as yoxmg Canada jays, 

109 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

are as dark all over as catbirds. In fact, when 
they hop along with their tails cocked up 
between the wings, they resemble overgrown 
editions of this latter bird. 

As we steam out of Hamilton Inlet in the 
evening, the fogs disappear, the wind shifts 
to the northwest, and the blue sky is lit up with 
fleecy pink clouds, while the sun sets clear for 
the first time in many days. The effect of the 
change of weather on the spirits of the pas- 
sengers and crew is marked, and a square dance 
is performed on deck to the music of a grapho- 
phone. The globe-trotting English sportsman 
has left us at Cartwright, going up the river 
after salmon, and the crew of lumbermen have 
departed at Rigolet, so that the company is 
now small. However, the poet takes his turn 
in the dance with the Cambridge school-teacher, 
who is intent on seeing everything, while the 
Frenchman with the Irish name is in his element. 
The stewardess and some of the sailors fill up 
the number. All is jollity. The clouds have 
rolled away. Such is the psychological effect 
of a little sunshine after storm! 

110 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

Behind us is the sun setting in a halo of great 
glory, shedding a wonderful purple light over 
the hills. Before us is the appearance of a 
whirling snow-storm. Thousands of kittiwake 
gulls cover the water, and as we push on they 
rise in bodies of five hundred or more, and whirl 
about like gusts of snow driven by the wind, 
their pure white plumage lit up by the rays of 
the stin. Silent for the most part, they occa- 
sionally emit cries which suggest the syllables 
kittiwake. Five days later on the return trip, 
near Cape Harrison, we again ran into a flock 
of the same size. The appearance of a snow- 
storm was here more perfect, for there was a 
thick fog bank on the edge of which the kitti- 
wakes played. The sun shining on the birds, 
before the fog shut them out, was very striking. 
Kittiwakes, or any small gull or tern, are called 
here " ticklers," possibly because they fly 
about " tickles." 

Indian Harbour, Smoky Tickle, and White 
Bear Islands were touched at in the night as 
we went north, but during daylight on our 
return. At Indian Harbour, at the northern 

111 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

entrance to Hamilton Inlet, is the northern- 
most of Doctor Grenfell's hospitals. 

Near Makkovick Island, a small duck ap- 
peared in the water off our starboard bow. It 
looked nearly black, with the exception of a 
large white patch in front of the eye. It swam 
about with its tail cocked up, and dove fre- 
quently, flopping out its wings for subaqueous 
flight. As the wings were spread, a small 
amount of white was displayed on their inner 
edges close to the body. Here was an inter- 
esting case for diagnosis, and by exclusion as 
well as by noting all these points, there can be 
no doubt but this was a young male harlequin 
duck. One does not often have specimens at 
hand for comparison, but in this case I referred 
at once to some skins of harlequin ducks I had 
obtained from the Eskimos, and confirmed 
the diagnosis. The adult male is a wonderful 
bird, with his various colours and markings, and 
well deserves the name of harlequin. 

At Houlton, the next morning after leaving 
Rigolet, we went ashore for twenty minutes, and 
caught a glimpse of a pair of Lapland longspurs 

112 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

that were evidently breeding here. The fisher- 
men were in despair, for the fish had not 
" struck in " and the ice was so bad that they 
must needs take up their traps for fear of 
losing them. 

Notwithstanding the clear sunset last night, 
we ran into a northeaster in the most exposed 
place on the whole coast, and for six hours we 
battled with the wind and waves in our attempt 
to get by Cape Harrison. In this blow four 
schooners dragged their anchors and went 
ashore along the coast, breaking up on the 
jagged rocks. On the return trip we picked 
up several of their crews, — each man had 
saved a bag of clothes, but nothing else. 

We caught but a glimpse of Cape Harrison, 
a lofty headland of light-coloured gneiss or per- 
haps syenite, slashed with black trap dikes, and 
set off by a great talus slope at the foot. On 
the return trip we saw but little more, for a fog 
blanket came in and enveloped the cape in a 
mist so thick that the captain turned the 
steamer around and skilfully returned to the 
sunlight within the shelter of the harbour. 

113 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Again he ventured out, but keeping this time 
so close to the cape, that the rote could be 
heard and the white line of surf seen at the 
base. 

That night we anchored at Long Tickle, and 
a long tickle it proved to be, for we remained 
there all the next day. The wind blew hard 
from the northeast, and the fog scudded over 
our heads. Outside was the pack ice, but in 
the tickle the water was as smooth as a mill- 
pond. However, we had a morning ashore. 
The island at Long Tickle is bare and desolate 
in the extreme, of glacier-smoothed granitic 
rock, cut by two series of dikes and rising in 
the centre to the height of a hundred feet or 
more. The vegetation is more scanty than at 
Battle Harbour. Our friends the pipits, horned 
larks, and white-crowns were on hand to greet 
us. 

The captain and all the passengers, four in 
number besides ourselves, climbed to the top 
of the island for a lookout. This was not 
encouraging. Outside at the mouth of the 
tickle was the pack ice stretching out into the 

114 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

fog. The wind was fierce and searching, and we 
were glad to get down in the lee of the rocks. 
The captain as usual was non-committal as to 
plans, and we were wise enough to ask no 
questions. The morning passed all too quickly 
in exploring the island and studying birds, 
during which occupation I incidentally learned 
something about Eskimo dogs to be related 
later. 

Entering by invitation an Eskimo hut of 
rough beams and sods, I found an Eskimo 
v/oman sewing on skin boots of raw sealskin. 
Every now and then she stopped to chew the 
hide so as to soften it to her liking. The door 
of the hut was not over four feet high, and I 
could not stand erect inside. I sat down on a 
bench near a small iron stove, the heat of which 
was comfortable. A part of the room was cur- 
tained off for sleeping. The walls were pa- 
pered in places with newspapers. Everything 
was neat and clean. The skins of a black bear, 
of a fox, of a harp-seal, of a muskrat, and of 
a woodchuck were all produced for my inspec- 
tion. I purchased the sealskin. 

115 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

There were several tilts of Eskimos or half- 
breeds on the island, each with its quota of 
dogs, and but one or two tilts of Newfoundland 
fishermen. One of these I visited, and was 
struck with the neatness and comfort of the 
place, due to the efforts of the only white woman 
on the island. 

While we were anchored at Long Tickle, an 
old Eskimo and his wife came on board, Joel 
Joseph and Eva. Joel is fifty-eight inches tall. 
John, the sailorman, who knows some things 
and readily invents stories about everything 
else, says he is sixty years old. John is a 
character. He is also a joke^. He sits in a 
steamer chair on the after-deck and squirts 
tobacco juice about like an American lord. 

The wind subsided in the late afternoon, 
both anchors were raised, and the Virginia 
Lake slowly steamed out into the pack. It 
was cold, a chilling, penetrating cold, which 
was not shown by the thermometer at 41°. 
Our thermometer on deck on this trip averaged 
about 44° at morning and night, about 50° at 
midday. Once it sank as low as 39°. We took 

116 



THE EASTERN COAST OF LABRADOR 

the temperature once in the saloon at the end 
of dinner, and found it was 59°. Gloves and 
mittens, two pairs of thick stockings, leather 
vests, and sweaters do not keep out the cold 
when one is on deck. As a Moravian mis- 
sionary said, ** It is a lazy wind, — too lazy 
to go arotind, it goes through one." Kipling 
puts it thus: 

" When the darkened Fifties dip to the North 
And frost and the fog divide the air, 
And the day is dead at his breaking-forth, 
Sirs, it is bitter beneath the Bear ! " 

Northern phalaropes swam aroimd a berg. 
Sea-pigeons and burgomaster gulls sported 
about. Several finback whales came up be- 
tween the floes and spouted. About eight in 
the evening the sun appeared in the northwest, 
round and red, and the light was wonderful on 
sky and ice and sea. 

At Makkovik Island the ice pack prevented 
our entering the harbour. While the boat is 
slowing down, a man at the masthead calls 
that some men have crossed the ice to a rocky 
island, where they are waving a flag to us. 
117 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

The ship is stopped, the mailboat is lowered, 
and rapidly picks its way among the ice blocks 
to the island, landing behind a huge berg that 

breaks the force of the sea. It soon reappears 

* 

directly in the path of the sun, comes alongside, 
and we are off. It is now 9 p. m., and I am 
writing this on deck. Ahead is the salmon- 
coloured sky of sunset; on the right a Hne of 
ice ; on the left dark rounded hills spotted with 
snow and shrouded in their cross valleys with 
fog. The water is smooth, for, as a sailor says, 
the ice is " handy-by." I twm in while it is 
still light at ten o'clock, and at once fall asleep, 
nor do I feel the shock and grinding of the 
vessel against the ice which wake my com- 
panion that night. 



118 



CHAPTER V 

FISH AND FISHERMEN 

•* Now, brothers, for the icebergs 

Of frozen Labrador, 
Floating spectral in the moonshine, 

Along the low, black shore 1 
Where like snow the gannet's feathers 

On Brador's rocks are shed, 
And the noisy murr are flying 

Like black scuds, overhead ; 

" Where in mist the rock is hiding. 
And the sharp reef lurks below, 
And the white squall smites in summer, 

And the autumn tempests blow ; 
Where, through gray and rolling vapour, 

From evening unto morn, 
A thousand boats are hailing, 
Horn answering unto horn." 

— " The Fishermen" Whittier. 

'TpHE ancient conundrum anent a door 
might be paraphrased on the Labrador 
coast as follows: When is a fish not a fish? 
When it is a salmon or a halibut or a caplin, 
or in fact any finny monster except a cod. 

119 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Here the cod is king. He alone is fish! I was 
introduced to this somewhat anomalous use 
of the English language by overhearing the 
following conversation: "And what did you 
get in your net the day, Sandy b'y? " " Only 
two fish, sorrh, and foiu" salmon." 

The permanent inhabitants of the Labrador 
coast, the " liveyers," are about three thou- 
sand in number, while between twenty and 
thirty thousand fishermen spend the short 
summer there. These latter figures include 
fisherwomen and fisherchildren, for they all 
take part in the business of preparing and 
curing the fish. As soon as the ice permits, 
and even before it, the fleet of schooners sails 
from Newfotmdland for the Labrador coast, 
eager to be on hand when the fish " strike in." 
Partly to prevent too great recklessness from 
early sailing in the ice for the desirable points, 
a definite date is set, before which time it is 
illegal to put out the fish-traps. 

The schooners are loaded with salt for curing 
the fish, and many of them crowded with peo- 
ple; for, besides their own crew of five or six 

120 



FISH AND FISHERMEN 

men and a woman or girls to cook and help 
at the splitting tables, the vessels are often 
burdened with "freighters," — fishermen and 
their families with no schooners of their own. 
These people, who are also called " stationers," 
are landed all along the coast at one of the 
numerous harbours, and spend the summer in 
little houses or tilts. They are brought back 
in the fall and pay for their passage with fish. 
These, like the liveyers, are more or less fixed, 
and the fish must come to them, while the fleet 
of " green fishermen," as they are called, are 
here to-day and gone to-morrow, always on 
the alert to be in the thick of the fight, and 
load their vessels as soon as may be for the 
return voyage. 

The first question that is always asked is not 
news from the outer world. What matters it 
to them whether the Russian dynasty is tot- 
tering? Their interests are focussed nearer 
at hand: " How's fish? " " Have they struck 
in? " " How many kentles (quintals) in the 
traps? " On our return trip near Ragged 
Islands, just after we had emerged from the 

123 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

ice, we come in sight of a fleet of fifty-four 
schooners, — green fishermen, — with all sails 
set going north. A brave showing they make, 
with dark mountains on their port, and ice on 
their starboard side. The temptation to learn 
the all important news from us is too much for 
some of them, and several deviate from their 
coui'se to hail us. Seven sturdy vikings row 
up in a long boat, a coat elevated on an oar 
as a flag. The captain stops the steamer and 
calls from the bridge, " What do you want? " 
The man at the steering oar asks in reply in a 
stentorian voice: " 'Ow's the h'ice, sorrh, down 
along, and 'ow's the fish, sorrh? " Another 
long boat rows up and asks for letters for the 
Brother and Sister, of which there are none. 
I imagine this is but a pretext for the next 
question which immediately follows: " 'Ow's 
fish, sorrh, down the coast? " 

Splendid-looking fellows are most of these 
fisherfolk, breathing the finest air in the world, 
eating an abundance of good fish, and taking 
plenty of exercise. There are no gasoline 
laimches — puff-boats, sea-skunks, or what 

124 



FISH AND FISHERMEN 

you will — on this coast, to affright the ear, 
pollute the air, or weaken, by disuse, the muscles 
of the fishermen. Great sweeps they use, 
eighteen or twenty feet long, and there can be 
no better health weights than these. The man 
in the stern stands up and sculls with an oar 
which is passed out through a hole, and wonder- 
fully skilful and graceful he is, as with the pro- 
peller-like action of the oar he pushes the boat 
ahead, guiding it to the desired point with a 
nicety. 

There are two things among these fisherfolk 
that are conspicuous by their absence, and I 
believe my brief observation would be borne 
out to a considerable extent by a longer stay. 
I refer to the absence of drinking and profanity. 
I saw no drunkenness and heard but little 
profanity all the time I was on the coast. That 
these habits are unknown is certainly too much 
to expect, but they are certainly not prevalent 
on the Labrador coast. 

Although brown eyes and black hair are 
common, the usual type is the Anglo-Saxon 
blue-eyed and brown or fiaxen-haired mortal 

125 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

among these fishermen. Their clothing is 
bleached by the weather, and so patched that 
it is often a problem to decide which is original 
material and which is patch. The trousers are 
tucked into tall leather boots, sometimes ex- 
tending above the knee. Blue or red sweaters, 
or perhaps a ragged brown velveteen jacket 
with a handkerchief knotted about the neck, 
cover their upper parts. Old caps or tam- 
o'-shanters set jauntily over one ear, a lock of 
hair escaping over the forehead, add to the 
picturesqueness of their general make-up. Mit- 
tens, with a separate place for the index finger, 
are also commonly worn. In stormy weather 
and while hauling the nets they wear suits 
of yellow oilskins and sou'westers to keep 
out the wet. Some of them I noticed wore 
bracelets of brass chains to charm away salt 
water sores. 

The boats are so large and stiff that it is 
a common thing to see all the men in them 
standing up, whether they are rowing, hauling 
their nets, or fishing. They run about in the 
boats in a way that would make a dory fisher- 

126 




Visiting Fishing-boats alongside the "Virginia Lake" at Batteau 




Fish-stage at Battle Harbour 



FISH AND FISHERMEN 

man's hair stand on end. Whenever the wind 
is favourable the fishermen put up a couple of 
masts with spritsails stained a picturesque 
brown or red, often using the boat-hook as a 
sprit, and glide over the waves with the great 
oar out behind for a rudder. Many a time I 
was reminded of a picture of vikings as these 
great fishing-boats swept by in the stormy sea 
with their freight of hardy fishermen. 

The cod generally follow the caphn, but 
this is not always the case, for at Battle Harbour 
caplin were abundant, yet " fish " were scarce. 
Caplin are small fish of about the size and 
appearance of smelts, and make most excellent 
bait for cod. They are easily caught in great 
numbers by lowering a net in which they are 
drawn up. While fresh they are delicious 
eating, but they are usually salted and dried, 
and they are commonly spread on the roofs 
of the tilts for this purpose. It grieves the 
careful soul to see so many of these fish wasted, 
allowed to spoil in the drying, or caught and 
left in piles to rot, because the fisherman is 
too lazy to attend to such an ordinary article. 

129 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Early in the season, many splendid salmon 
are caught in the nets as they swim along the 
coast to enter the mouths of rivers. These 
are smoked or salted and packed in tierces 
to be sent away. The serious business of the 
summer is, however, the capture of the cod, 
and for this purpose the trap is chiefly used. 
This is a large affair of nets. A wall of net 
called the " leader," anchored at the bottom 
and held up by cork floats, extends from some 
rocky point to a square or diamond shaped 
trap of nets which is held in place in the same 
way. The fish coming in contact with the 
" leader " at once turn to swim into deep 
water, but instead of that find themselves in 
the trap, from which they are too stupid or 
frightened to escape. The trap is hauled twice 
and sometimes thrice a day by the fishermen, 
who stand up in their boat and pull the net, 
so that the fish are collected in one side. From 
this they are ruthlessly scooped up by round 
hand-nets into the boat. The whole is an 
interesting process, and there is no more char- 
acteristic and picturesque scene on the Labrador 

130 



FISH AND FISHERMEN 

coast than a boat-load of hardy men standing 
up in yellow oilskins and hauling the trap in 
which the fish are frantically flopping. The 
background is a barren point of rock, lichen- 
stained and bleak, with a fringe of moaning 
sijirf . The fishermen are often to be seen peering 
down through water telescopes from their boats 
to see if fish are present. 

With their boat-load of fish they row or 
sail to the schooner or to the fish-stage. Here 
the fish, the harvest of the sea, are pitched out 
with a two-pronged fork, as men pitch the 
harvest of the fields. There are splitting 
tables on the decks and at the fish-stages, with 
three or four men of men and women at each 
table. Number one, " the cut-throater," slits 
the fish up the belly; number two, "the 
header," drops the liver into a cask and with 
a clever pull and cut drags out the remaining 
entrails and severs the head, dropping them 
all into the sea; number three, " the splitter," 
takes out the backbone and drops the now 
flattened remains into a tub of brine. The 
last operation is the most delicate and com- 

131 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

plicated. Sometimes there are two splitters 
at a table. When fish are striking in well the 
work is kept up at night by the aid of flaring 
tin lamps. It is interesting to see with what 
skill and precision and with what quickness 
this work is done. The very small cod are not 
boned, but are salted whole. These are called 
" leggies " or " roundets." The salted fish are 
afterwards dried on " flakes." These are plat- 
forms made of small flat planks or of poles, on 
which the split and flattened fish are spread 
to dry. In some places the fish are placed on 
fir boughs, in other places on rocks or on pebbly 
beaches, and the cobblestone beaches raised 
high above the tides by recent changes of level 
on the coast are often utilized for this purpose. 
These fish-flakes are busy places, for the fish 
must not " burn," if the sim be too hot, or 
spoil in the dew and rain. Every evening they 
are carefully stacked to be spread again on the 
morrow. In fact a fish-flake and a hay-field 
have many points of resemblance, although the 
breath of the one is not as the breath of the 
other. 

132 



FISH AND FISHERMEN 

I occasionally noticed men " jigging " for 
cod. The " jigger " consists of a bright piece 
of lead, shaped somewhat like a small fish, in 
which two large hooks are imbedded, with their 
points extending out on either side. The 
fisherman stands up in the boat and constantly 
jerks up and down, or " jigs," two lines, to each 
of which a jigger is attached. The fish are 
attracted by the lead, and while they are in- 
specting it are suddenly pierced by the hooks 
that may enter any part of their anatomy. It 
is a cruel method, for many fish hooked in the 
abdomen must tear away before they are 
brought into the boat. Baited hand lines are 
also used, and I saw on the southern coast 
" bultows," or lines to which are attached 
numerous baited hooks that are set and hauled 
at stated intervals. These are called trawls 
on the New England coast. 

The fish-stages are lightly constructed 
wharves of small spruce and fir poles built out 
from the rocks over the water, which support 
the rude fish-house, often sheathed with fir 
boughs and roofed with green turf. In this 

135 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

is the splitting table, the casks of livers and 
brine, and the solidly stacked layers of salted 
fish. 

There is generally a dim religious light 
in these houses, which seems all the dimmer 
to one coming in from the broad daylight out- 
side. Light enters only through the low doors 
and the chinks between the boards or fir 
branches. 

In landing from a boat at a fish-stage, one 
must generally walk through these fish-houses 
to reach the shore, and one must take heed of 
his steps lest he slip and fall on the slimy floor. 
One must also take heed lest he knock his 
head at the entrance, for it is a curious habit 
of Labradorian architects, derived no doubt 
from the Eskimos, to make low doors. Even 
the best houses have low doors, as I first found 
out to my cost at Battle Harbour. The door 
of my bedroom there was only five feet seven 
and one-half inches high, and the height of the 
front door was scarcely more. The consequence 
was a sore head until I learned to go about 
with a chronic stoop. 

136 




Sod Hut at Houlton 




Hut Made Out of an Old Boat at Long Tickle 



FISH AND FISHERMEN 

The houses or tilts of the fishermen ashore, 
the " freighters " or " stationers," vary in 
character as do the houses of the Hveyers. 
Like the houses of the latter, they are generally 
rough structures, square in shape, built of poles 
or planks, covered with green or flowering 
sods. The freighters often bring birch bark 
from Newfoundland, with which the frame is 
spread before the sods are applied. In several 
places I noticed old boats or halves of boats 
with doors cut in the sides or end, and roofed 
and sodded so that they made domiciles for 
the fishermen. At other times the houses were 
neat frame structures, even clapboarded, and 
painted white. 

This is the case generally on the south- 
ern coast. The houses grow simpler and 
poorer as one goes north. All alike, the 
inferior and the superior houses, have simple 
board partitions between the rooms, if per- 
chance there is more than one room. No 
plaster is used, but the boards are often covered 
with newspaper or sometimes with real wall- 
paper. Some of the simplest and poorest houses 

139 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

were immaculately clean, others were quite 
the* opposite. They varied as human nature 
varies, and depended of course on the habits 
of the man or woman in charge. 



140 



CHAPTER VI 

ICEBERGS AND THE FLOE 

" I long to see those icebergs vast, 

With heads all crowned with snow; 
Whose green roots sleep in the awful deep, — 
Two hundred fathoms low." 

— " The Northern Seas," William Howitt. 

pERHAPS the most interesting pictures re- 
tained in the memory of this Labrador 
trip are of the icebergs. We first encoim- 
tered them in the Straits of Belle Isle, and from 
there north we were rarely out of sight of one 
or more of them. In size they varied from 
tiny cakes of ice to great masses as large" as a 
cathedral. When it is remembered that only 
about one-sixth part of the berg or even less 
is above water, one can only wonder at, much 
less estimate, their great bulk. The small 
bergs are largely floe-bergs, that is, remnants 
of the ice floe or pack that formed over the 
siuiace of the water during the winter. Some 

141 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

are " calves " or fragments split off from the 
true icebergs, which were themselves broken 
off from the glaciers of Greenland as they 
debouched into the sea. Borne along by the 
arctic currents from the glaciers, many ice- 
bergs were stranded in the shallow water of 
the Labrador coast, while others slowly drifted 
by outside. 

The colour of these bergs first calls for our 
admiration. Of alabaster whiteness, and spark- 
ling in the sun as if beset with diamonds, they 
are objects of exceeding beauty. In the 
shadows, in the deep crevasses, and in the 
caverns carved by the hungry waves, the 
colour is often of the most intense and trans- 
lucent blue. Where the water washes them, 
and they extend out as great subaqueous 
shelves, the colour changes to a lovely green. 
These greens and blues are as delicate and 
exquisite when seen close at hand as when 
viewed from a distance. At times there is a 
faint suspicion of green throughout the whole 
berg. In the changing lights and shadows of 
sunrise and simset the icebergs glow with pink, 

142 



ICEBERGS AND THE FLOE 

or darken with purples and blues in a wonderful 
manner. Beautiful as these colours are, perhaps 
the most beautiful and impressive of all is 
the pure, chaste whiteness of these ice moun- 
tains of the sea. 

In shape the icebergs vary greatly. Some 
are of simple design. One stranded near 
Battle Harbotir was a great rectangular block, 
an acre or more in extent, and higher above 
water than the topmasts of the fishing-schooners. 
Its sides were everywhere precipitous. Its 
surface was flat and unbroken save by a few 
large cracks or crevasses. Another, nearer 
at hand, almost blocking the harbour's mouth, 
looked from certain points of view for all the 
world like a great contented hobby-horse. The 
head was perfect. The back, however, tapered 
off as perhaps a sea-horse's back should do, 
into more of a flipper than a tail. One further 
off looked like a schooner under full sail. 

The steamer passed one that was shaped 
into a complete arch, under which the waves 
rushed with an echoing sound. Another con- 
sisted of three perpendicular shafts of alabaster 

145 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

whiteness, rising from a great subaqueous 
shelf of a clear green colour. These columns 
were some sixty feet in height. The pranks 
that the mirage, so common about the bergs 
and the floe ice, sometimes played was well 
illustrated here. As we steamed away from 
the berg we tried to estimate the height of 
the columns, comparing them with the height 
of the masts of a schooner some distance ahead. 
Every time we looked back the snowy columns 
looked mightier, at last assuming stupendous 
proportions, beside which the schooner's masts 
would have appeared like tenpins. The mirage 
was drawing them out into the clouds above. 
At times we heard a sound like that of a 
volley of artillery, or the rolling of thunder, 
caused by the cracking off of a great fragment 
or calf. Once or twice we witnessed the actual 
process of calving, and were reminded of Kip- 
ling's poem where he says: 

« The unstable mined berg going South and the 
Calvings and groans that declare it." 

If the calf is large, the centre of gravity of 
the mother berg changes, and she rolls from 

146 



ICEBERGS AND THE FLOE 

side to side before coming to rest in the new 
position. The blue grottos worn by the waves 
rise above the water on one side, while the 
other side sinks. Many of the icebergs showed 
these raised beaches and caverns, and some- 
times a second set, due to a subsequent shifting 
of the centre of gravity. 

The larger icebergs were often accompanied 
by a large family of calves, that streamed off 
to leeward, or silently departed against the 
wind, drawn by a stronger current below. So 
much more of the berg is below water than 
above that the currents of water often over- 
come the more apparent current of air. The 
tides on the Labrador coast are only about 
three or four feet in height, but the tidal 
currents are often very strong. 

The dashing of the surf against the sloping 
shores, precipitous headlands, and deep caverns 
of the icebergs add to the beauty and wonder 
of the scene, while the waves produced by the 
fall of a fragment are at times of considerable 
magnitude. 

The fantastic shapes taken by some of the 

149 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

smaller bergs and pieces of floe ice are innum- 
erable. I made rough drawings of many in my 
note-book. The huge toadstool is a common 
type. This shape is due to the washing of the 
water, — the slop of the waves, — which grad- 
ually cuts a deep groove around the base of the 
berg at the water-level. Deeper and deeper 
it cuts until there is nothing but a shelf of 
green ice with its surface awash and an upright 
blue column supporting another shelf or cone- 
shaped mass of white, sparkling ice. Some 
of these toadstools are twenty feet high. By 
the cracking away of part of the base, the 
centre of gravity may change so that an arch 
is formed over the water. The large arches, 
of which we saw one splendid example, must, 
however, be caused by the falling away and 
washing out of great fragments of ice, and by 
the hollowing action of the waves. One ice- 
berg we passed had a turret about sixty feet 
high that was shaped like the head of a griffin, 
and the illusion was increased by a hole which 
gave the appearance of an eye. 

Several times we passed bergs that looked 

150 



ICEBERGS AND THE FLOE 

like great birds with expansive tails, floating 
in the water, or sitting on ledges of ice. One 
could even distinguish a turkey-cock from a 
duck among these ice forms. One piece of ice 
looked like a huge squab with its wings flopped 
out, and another was a very fine enlargement 
of the Americans cup. Again the ice took the 
form of seals or dolphins or delicate branching 
stags' horns, and again of bizarre forms that 
are not to be found in the heavens above, or 
in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the 
earth. 

The dangers of the subaqueous extension of 
the ice from the bergs were well shown by an 
accident that took place about this very time. 
A schooner, the Stella B., was scudding along 
with a good wind in the Straits of Belle Isle, — 
Isle au Diable was the original and more ap- 
propriate name. Suddenly a giant iceberg 
loomed close at hand. The helm was put over, 
and then the captain cried " Steady," thinking 
the vessel was well out of the way of danger. 
In an instant she crashed on to an unseen reef 
of ice, extending out from the berg. The 

151 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

schooner slipped off and began at once to fill. 
They had barely time to take to the jolly- 
boat, eight souls in all, including the captain's 
two young daughters, sixteen and nineteen 
years old. The schooner sank before their 
eyes, and for thirty hours the jolly-boat battled 
with the wind and waves. 

Once they took refuge in the lee of another 
iceberg, but that began to crack and they backed 
away just in time to escape being swamped 
by the capsizing berg. The girls never mur- 
mured. One faint-hearted sailor declared it 
was of no use, he would row no longer; and 
the girls upbraided him as a coward and said 
they would bail as long as the men would row. 
All this I had from the mate of the ship- 
wrecked vessel. No wonder the sailors dread 
the ice-islands, as they call them. The danger 
of collision is much increased by the fact that 
fog — the treacherous and deceptive fog — 
so often hangs about and shrouds the ice- 
bergs. 

On our way north we first met the floe ice 
outside of Long Tickle on July 20th, and the 

152 




The « Virginia Lake " Steaming through the Floe Ice at Double Island 



ICEBERGS AND THE FLOE 

next day we pushed through half a mile of it 
at Double Island, between Hopedale and Nain, 
to bear the mails to that island. Inside the 
harbour a group of men had run out on to the 
ice to receive the mail-boat. Their hands were 
tied by the ice. Their schooner was imprisoned 
behind great masses of it, and they dared not 
set their traps for fish lest they should be 
carried away by the drifting floe. 

As we again steamed north over the smooth 
water, we realized that this same pack ice was 
responsible for the absence of a ground swell. 
Outside was a continuous wall of ice fioe, cut- 
ting off the force of the waves. The mirage or 
ice blink here played pranks, for the ice floe 
was magnified into a great wall of ice appar- 
ently over a hundred feet high and stretching 
as far as the eye could see. It looked exactly 
like the pictures of the great barrier-ice wall 
of the antarctic regions. 

Two days later, on our return, we again gave 
battle to the ice floe for most of the day. It 
was an interesting experience. The ice ahead 
as far as we could see was broken up into great 

155 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

cakes and miniature bergs, with channels and 
pools of blue water. The Virginia Lake is, 
however, accustomed to such experiences. 
She goes sealing every spring. Forward she 
is sheathed outside with heavy planking, and 
reinforced with great plates of iron. Slowly 
she steamed along, threading her way, where 
no way seemed possible, under the skilful guid- 
ance of the captain who quietly gave his orders 
from the bridge. At times the good steamer 
was brought to a full stop by the impact of the 
ice, and groaned and quivered in every timber. 
Again she slid up on a subaqueous shelf of 
solid ice of unknown depth, her bow rising, her 
stern sinking. Usually, however, by skilful 
manoeuvring, she poked her nose between the 
bergs, pushing them slowly to one side. It was 
fascinating to look down from the bow on these 
green and blue and white masses. Some of 
the floes were of large extent, and contained 
beautiful green basins which suggested crystal 
bath-tubs for the sea-nymphs. So clear is the 
water on this Labrador coast that one can see 
the ice of some of the larger bergs extending 

156 




The Ice at Long Tickle 




The Ice at Ragged Harbour 



ICEBERGS AND THE FLOE 

many fathoms down. At times we emerged 
into considerable lakes of open water. Here 
for a few minutes we went ahead at full speed. 

While we were steaming through the floe 
ice, we saw but few birds. A black guillemot 
swam here and there in the openings of water. 
His red feet, which showed as he dove, and 
his black plumage contrasted well with the 
green of the ice. At times the contrast was 
still more marked as he sat on a small berg. 
We counted thirty of them while we were 
going through this floe. Kitti wakes seem 
especially at home in the ice, and a group of 
them on a small cake, or a large flock on an 
iceberg, were often seen. 

Although the glaucous or burgomaster gull 
is famed for the whiteness of its plumage, it 
does not equal in purity the colour of the ice. 
We saw several that morning. Splendid great 
fellows they are, almost as large as great black- 
backed gulls. Their wings are pure white, and 
lack the black marlrings present on the large 
feathers of the herring gull's wings. The adtdts 
are of a pearl or bluish gray colour on the back, 

159 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

while the immature bird lacks this blue mantle 
as it is called, and is of a uniform cream or 
buffy white. Owing to this difference in plu- 
mage, they were at one time thought to be a 
different species and were named the Hutchins 
gtill. 

Another bird whose black and white plumage 
makes it always conspicuous is the eider-duck. 
Several small bands of these birds threaded 
their way in flight among the floes. 

It was with feelings of regret, not shared, it 
is safe to say, by the captain, that we emerged 
from our icy fetters, and proceeded swiftly 
on our way south over the imimpeded waters. 



160 



CHAPTER VII 

HOPEDALE AND NAIN, THE MORAVIANS AND THE 
ESKIMOS 

" The Esquimaux from Ice and Snow now free, 
In Shallops and in Whale-boats go to Sea ; 
In Peace they rove along this pleasant shore. 
In plenty live ; nor do they wish for more. 
Thrice happy Race! Strong Drink nor gold they know ; 

What in their Hearts they think, their Faces shew. 
Of manners gentle, in their dealings just, 

Their plighted promise, safely you may trust." 

— Cartwrighfs Journal. 

^"T^HE Virginia Lake steams into the land- 
locked bay of Hopedale at seven in the 
morning of July 21, 1906. It is a beautiful day. 
The glass stands at 49°. A gentle westerly wind 
ruffles the surface of the water. Burgomaster 
gtdls, scoters, and eider-ducks fly about, dis- 
turbed by our appearance. The distant moun- 
tains are of a delicate blue colour, while the 
nearer hills, for the most part sombre with their 
lichen covering, are patched here with the 

161 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

delicate olive and pea greens of the arctic vege- 
tation, and there with white drifts of snow 
left from the winter's storms. 

Close to the water's edge are several large 
buildings, neatly painted white with red roofs, 
and among them a small church. These are 
the buildings of the Moravian missionaries. 
Close to these buildings and in marked contrast 
with them are the crowded huts and hovels 
of an Eskimo village. On a point of rocks are 
grouped a number of Eskimos, men, women, 
and children, watching our steamer, their 
bright clothing contrasting well with the gray- 
rocks. Others rush to their boats, and we are 
soon surrounded by a grinning, chattering 
crowd. Aksunae! they call, and we reply, 
some of us using for the first time the Eskimo 
tongue. Aksunae, the literal meaning of which 
is he strong, is used as a salutation like our good 
morning. Our first visit on shore is to the 
Moravian brethren, who receive us pleasantly, 
and courteously invite us into the large house. 
I had expected to find aged, black-robed men, 
speaking only the German language, but am 

162 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

agreeably surprised to find the Moravians both 
at Hopedale and Nain to be young or middle- 
aged, wide-awake men, wearing the ordinary 
dress and speaking English perfectly, although 
their names suggest a German descent. I 
shall remember with great pleasure the kind 
reception that they and their charming wives 
give us during the brief time that we are 
ashore at these two mission places. Even in 
scenes like this I have my eyes open for birds, 
and I am so fortunate as to obtain a few bird- 
skins from an Eskimo, and a number of others, 
including those of a gyrfalcon, harlequin ducks, 
and an ivory gull from the Moravians. These 
skins have all been procured by them from the 
Eskimos, who make what is technically called 
a bird " skin," in the same way that bird-skins 
are prepared for scientific collections. Why 
they do this I do not know, unless they have 
been instructed or it be for ornament. Most 
of the skins have strings tied to the bills so 
that they can be hung up. The skins of sea- 
birds are generally thick with fat, but the Es- 
kimos remove this skilfully with the teeth, 
163 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

sucking in the oil. When I return to the 
ship I board her triumphantly with my arms 
full of bird-skins. 

After we have visited the Moravians we 
hurriedly make an inspection of the Eskimo 
village. Some two dozen huts are tumbled in 
together, and a narrow winding street leads up 
through the centre. Eskimos of both sexes and 
all ages are everywhere, and dogs galore, for 
each family has from seven to nine dogs. Ko- 
matiks or dog sledges are lying about, while 
kayaks, the Eskimo himting-boats, hang against 
the sides of some of the buildings. On our re- 
turn we see a native navigating one of these 
boats here. Dark red seal meat and fish are 
drying on poles, and steel traps lie above on the 
roofs of some of the dwellings. A pair of robins 
are perfectly at home here, and have built their 
nest, I am told, on one of the houses, while 
white-crowned sparrows are singing from the 
roof, and a noisy pair of ringneck plovers are 
whistling on the shore. 

The Eskimos are all smiling and are very 
ready to invite us into their houses and to pose 

164 




•sswSSsSiwr' 



Eskimo in Kayak 




Hopedale 

Photograph by Dr. W. P. Bolles 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

for photographs. The houses are all small, one- 
room affairs, nearly square, and made of logs 
or of rough boards and poles, the roofs gener- 
ally covered with green sods. Each house has 
a low, dark vestibule, suggestive of the ar- 
chitecture of the snow dwellings. Cleanliness 
in and about the houses is not of the highest 
order. 

All too soon we are called away, for, if the 
steamer is to reach Nain, she must not delay. 
One of the Moravian brethren accompanies us 
on the trip to Nain for a short visit to his friends 
there, as this is the first time this summer that 
the Virginia Lake has attempted to reach that 
point. He is a striking figure dressed in a fine 
long coat of silvery sealskins, and he wears a 
beautiful pair of skin boots, white in the foot, 
black in the leg, with a band of fur at the top. 

Leaving Hopedale, the steamer passes some 
interesting basaltic hills, the Black Heads, 
which rise steeply from the water. As we 
steam along in the quiet water, sheltered by 
the outlying islands and the floe ice, over which 
lies the treacherous fog, while inland all is bright 

167 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

and sunny, a small whale jumps clear of the 
water fiye times in quick succession, turning 
partly over so as to show his pinkish white 
belly. My friend at once recognizes him as a 
pike-headed whale by his white wrist mark, 
and calls my attention to this diagnostic point. 
The whale strikes the water each time with a 
great splash. A little later we see the long 
sabre-like fin of a killer whale. Our experience 
in passing through the floe ice on our way to 
Double Island, and our longer struggle on 
the return, I have already related in the chap- 
ter on the ice. At one place where the ice is 
packed in between rocky islands the mirage 
produces the strange effect of great white 
cataracts pouring off rocky cliffs. 

As we approach Fanny's Harbour, where two 
men are said to have fought for a girl of that 
name, the sky-line of the hills is beset with 
boulders left by the glaciers. The whole effect 
of these hills is gray and black from their lichen 
covering, while only here and there are faint 
greenish- yellow patches of mosses and arctic 
vegetation. Snow lies in the gullies down to 

168 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

the water's edge. The bases of the hills, where 

they are washed by the sea, are naked even of 

lichen and show the natural salmon pink colour 

of the syenite or gneiss, set off by the white line 

of surf. Here the student of the Indians leaves cj^coavia ciwsax 

us with his canoe and baggage, to join some of ^^ *^*^- .«•« 

his Nascopi friends in order to study their ' 

habits and their language, which he has been 
doing for some years. It is impossible for the 
Labradormen to understand his object, and 
they all suspect that he is looking for " wilth 
in the rocks," or in other words for gold, and 
they feel sure that his talk about studying the 
Indians is merely a ruse ! No man in his senses 
would come so far to study such an insignifi- 
cant subject as the Indian! In fact, here, as 
almost everywhere in this new world, it is im- 
possible for men to think of anything except in 
terms of dollars and cents. Nothing else can 
be worth while. I was asked pointblank 
whether I myself was not in reality prospecting 
for gold, and whether in my hurried dashes 
ashore filthy lucre, and not birds, was really 
uppermost in my mind, for wha,t possible ob- 

169 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

ject could there be in looking at dicky-birds, or 
even in shooting them except for sport? Pos- 
sibly I was going to make money by selling their 
skins. When I came on board with specimens 
of lichens collected for my botanical friend, 
the knowing ones put their heads together and 
said I was gathering valuable medicines! It 
is certainly a great luxury to study something 
which is of no immediate " practical " value 
and which has " no money in it! " 

In the afternoon we pass a high rocky 
island, — the word rocky is almost superfluous, 
for all islands and all land is rocky here, — 
around which fly some forty razor-billed auks, 
or tinkers, their little black wings moving with 
great rapidity. This same afternoon we cotint, 
besides these, twelve of the large loons, three 
red- throated loons, one hundred and sixty-five 
black guillemots, four glaucous gulls, one great 
black-backed gull, six herring gulls, one hun- 
dred and two kitti wakes, two Pomarine jaegers, 
thirty-two Greenland eider-ducks, one king 
eider-duck, and sixty white-winged scoter- 
ducks. 

170 




a c 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

The jaegers, or hunters of the sea, called 
here " bo'swains," are very graceful, hawk- 
like gulls. At times on our voyage they have 
been very abundant, — both the Pomarine 
and parasitic species, — and we have seen a 
number in the black phase with plumage as 
black as that of a crow. They derive their 
name of hunter from their habit of chasing 
gulls and terns to despoil them of their prey, 
preferring to make their living in this piratical 
manner rather than by honest labour. 

Late that afternoon we pass islands where 
there is some gravel which looks like glacial 
drift, into which streams are cutting deeply. 
This is the first gravel we have seen on this 
eastern coast of Labrador. There are some 
splendid examples of raised beaches here, 
and there is plenty of snow on the hillsides. 
As we pass the point of Paul's or Powell's 
Island, which forms the entrance to the long 
fiord leading to Nain, we notice a tent, some 
rude tilts, and a few Eskimos wandering about 
in white sacks. 

The fiord leading to Nain is twenty miles 
173 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

long, and is flanked in many places by great 
sombre gray cliffs and steep mountains. The 
fiord twists so that we seem to be continually 
in a narrow mountain lake, from which retreat 
is impossible. Behind are great cliffs which 
shut us out from the sea. Ahead are tumbled 
mountains and steep precipices all bathed in a 
wonderful simset light. One is prone to think 
the last sunset always the best and most 
wonderfvil, but I am sure I have never seen such 
a succession of glorious simsets as I have wit- 
nessed in these boreal regions, and I shall never 
forget this one as we steam through the narrow 
fiord to Nain. 

The sun does not disappear until half-past 
eight, and at nine-thirty, while it is still broad 
daylight, the Virginia Lake drops anchor for the 
first time this year in the quiet little harbour, 
the mountain tarn of Nain. A cannon is fired 
by the Eskimos on the shore, and the sound 
reverberates among the mountains, while the 
steamer whistles in reply. Cries of welcome 
are heard, and the Eskimos rush down to the 
wharf to greet us. We are soon surrounded by 

174 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

boats crowded with brightly dressed natives. 
All are smiling to the fullest possible extent 
and shouting aksunae. The scene is novel and 
most interesting. On the north shore, with a 
background of forest, behind which rises a 
peaked mountain, are the mission buildings 
of the Moravian brethren, all painted white and 
with red roofs. Close to the largest house is 
the chapel. To the right of these buildings 
is a village of low, dirty Eskimo huts, all 
tumbled in together. 

We crowd the mail-boat, sailors, officers, 
and passengers, and are soon ashore, where we 
are kindly greeted by the Moravian brothers 
and sisters, who introduce us to their bishop 
who happens to be staying there. Under the 
guidance of a Moravian, who acts as an inter- 
preter, we wander about the Eskimo settle- 
ment, which has the same characteristics as 
that at Hopedale. The mission house and 
chapel are courteously shown to us by Brother 
Schmitt and his hospitable wife, who have 
been here fifteen years. Everything is spotless. 
In the chapel there are benches for the Eskimos 

177 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

to sit on, the men at one end, the women at 
the other. 

On one side is a raised platform where 
there is a reading-desk on a table, while oppo- 
site to it is a harmonium on another platform. 
There are chandeliers for candles. In the mis- 
sion house I copy some interesting records 
of birds and their eggs which Brother Schmitt 
has kept for some years. 

We are back on the ship at half -past ten, and 
find the dining-saloon crowded with Eskimos, 
twenty-six in all, men and women, and one 
child. They all have broad flat faces, ranging 
in colour from swarthy brown to yellow. Their 
eyes are black and set somewhat obliquely, 
close together. The men wear their straight 
jet-black hair banged over their foreheads, and 
cut square at the back of their necks, very 
much as the boy of five has his hair treated 
at home. This gives them a delightfully inno- 
cent and childlike appearance. The black hair 
of the women is neatly arranged in little braids 
about the head. Some of the older men have 
a scanty growth of hair on the upper lip 
178 




Joel Joseph on Board the Steamer at Long Tickle 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

and chin. Their mouths are large, their teeth 
fine. 

As to clothing, this is various, but generally- 
picturesque. Thick white cloth sacks or silla- 
paks are commonly worn by both men and 
women. Some of the women's have tails in 
front or behind. The sacks are trimmed with 
black and red braid. One man wears a seal- 
skin sillapak. Bright-coloured handkerchiefs 
about the neck or on the head are common, 
and the men seem to be fond of embroidered 
vests. The trousers and skirts are patched and 
faded to neutral tints. Skin boots, the odour of 
which is characteristic, complete the costume. 
All are laughing and chattering in their native 
language, for only one man in the crowd speaks 
English, and I have a good opporttinity to air 
my small vocabulary of Eskimo words I have 
learned from the Moravian brother. Aksunae 
or "Good day " is the most generally usefiil; 
Nakomik means " Thank you; " Ananak, " It's 
fine;" Kanoeket? "How are you?" Kujana, 
" I don't care," or " What difference does it 
make? " and the expressive Ahchuck means 

181 



ALONG THE ILABRADOR COAST 

" I don't know." Etukiarita, the Moravian 
brother explained, can only be translated by 
the English expression, " Well, I'll be blow'd." 

The Eskimos soon begin to sing, for music 
is one of their chief pleasures and accomplish- 
ments. Here at Nain, as at all the missions, 
violins are used by them in the church choir, 
and brass bands are organized. A good story 
is told of their welcoming some Indians with 
this latter music. The Indians were so terrified, 
thinking perhaps that the Iroquois devils were 
loose again, that it was some time before they 
could be persuaded to approach. At all the 
missions the Moravians encourage this latent 
taste for music, and find it of great value in 
attracting the Eskimos to the church service. 

For over an hotir these natives sing to us, — 
familiar music with Eskimo words, — " Rock 
of Ages," " Shall We Gather at the River? " 
" Holy Night," interspersed with what I take 
to be secular songs from the laughter that 
follows. Their voices are most harmonious, 
and the singing is indeed of a superior order. 
I enjoy particularly the part songs, and one 

182 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

cannot but be affected by the strange scene 
and the beauty and sweetness of the singing. 
" Nakomik " we cry, and " Ananak,'' and re- 
turn the compUment in the only way we can 
with a graphophone. It is indeed a terrible 
come-down to " The Old Apple-tree " and 
" Everybody Works but Father," but the 
Eskimos seem to enjoy it, and greet the songs 
and their explanation by the interpreter with 
peals of laughter. A song in which a man beats 
his wife seems especially to amuse them. A 
Moravian brother told me that they had been 
unable to wean the Eskimo from the wife- 
beating habit. Even the wives resented any 
interference on this score. An Irish jig makes 
them shake with joy, and I am sure they would 
dance were there room to stir. 

How different is the nature of the Eskimo 
from that of the Indian! The one cheerful, 
happy, loquacious, the other sombre, gloomy, 
and silent. Of course, these characteristics are 
not always so distinct, but they were marked 
in the specimens of the two races I met on the 
Labrador coast. 

183 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Soon after midnight the good-natured, laugh- 
ing crowd tumble into their boats and row 
ashore. All is peaceful in this little moimtain 
lake, in which the great sea-going steamer 
seems strangely out of place, for there is no 
suggestion of sea here. The light is dim, but 
sufficient to outline the surrounding hills and 
moimtains, the substantial buildings of the 
Moravians and the squalid huts of the Eskimos. 
Overhead a few stars are visible, while a single 
ray of the aurora borealis shoots across the 
zenith. As the pleasant voices of the Eskimos 
are borne to my ears from the shore I think 
of the very different reception this same race 
gave the first Moravians, who over 150 years 
ago first came to these shores to labour in their 
behalf. " Treacherous, murderous savages " 
they were then, God-fearing, useful members 
of society they are now. 

In 1 741 the " Society for the Furtherance of 
the Gospel amongst the Heathen " was formed 
by members of the Moravian Church in London, 
and missionaries were sent to Christianize the 
Eskimos in Greenland. In 1752 the schooner 

184 




Eskimos at Hopedale 




Eskimos at Nain 

Photograph by Dr. W. P. Bolie 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

Hope sailed with a devoted band of Moravians 
for the Labrador coast. At Hopedale they 
erected a dwelHng-house and some of them 
prepared to stay there. Treachery developed 
among the Eskimos and seven of the ship's 
company were murdered. The surviving mis- 
sionaries returned to England. After an interval 
of nineteen years a further attempt was made 
by the Moravians to reach the Labrador 
Eskimos, and a permanent settlement w^as 
established in Nain in 1771. Later missions 
were established at Okak, Hopedale, Hebron, 
Zoar, Ramah, Makkovik, and Killinek. Mak- 
kovik, established in 1898, is the most southern 
of the Moravian missions on the Labrador 
coast, at latitude 55°, a short distance to the 
north of Hamilton Inlet. Killinek, the most 
northern of the missions, near latitude 60° and 
close to Cape Chidley, has been only recently 
established. 

At each missionary station are the mission- 
aries and their wives, who are called the 
brothers and sisters ; also the unmarried breth- 
ren, all labouring together to Christianize and 

187 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

civilize the Eskimos, Only the younger children 
of the missionaries are allowed to- stay in 
Labrador, for at seven years of age they must 
be separated from their parents, who may never 
see them again, to be sent to Europe to be 
educated. Some of them return in later years 
as missionaries. The link with Europe is 
supplied by the Society's ship, now and for 
many years, but not always, called the Har- 
mony. For over 130 years the ship has 
been making annual visits to this dangerous 
coast. During all this time only three vessels 
have been lost, but they have had many hair- 
breadth escapes in great storms and ice block- 
ades and in times of war. 

Many of the facts about the Moravian mis- 
sions I gleaned from an interesting work on the 
subject purchased at Nain. It is written by 
one of the brethren, the Rev. J. W. Davey, 
and is called " The Fall of Torngak." Torngak, 
which is pronounced like cognac, is the name 
of one of the Eskimo gods or devils, and the 
Moravians' mission it is to oust this Torngak 
and substitute the God of the Christians. In 

188 



HOPEDALE AND NAIN 

this connection it is interesting to read Fridtjof 
Nansen's book on the Eskimos. He is a 
great beHever in the virtues of the original 
Eskimos, uncontaminated by the influence of 
whites. He finds them unselfish and altruistic, 
abounding in truly Christian virtues, although 
some of their ideas of morality differ radically, 
he admits, from that of the so-called civilized 
world. The missionaries, by breaking up their 
natural life, which the exigencies of the chase 
on sea and land require, make them, he claims, 
dependent on imported luxuries and necessities, 
and less able to fight the severe fight in the 
arctic regions. In this way they are degen- 
erating in stamina and slowly succumbing to 
the inevitable, — disappearing as a race. 

That there is much truth in this, there can 
be no doubt, but it must be said that the 
degeneration would be more rapid and more 
vicious in contact wth the white traders and 
fishermen. Better by far the heathen Torngak 
than the white devil Cognac and all its accom- 
panying satellites! Alas that this primitive 
people with their wonderful adaptations to 

189 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

life in the far north, with their houses, their 
clothing, their weapons, and their boats, evolved 
out of long centuries of conflict with the elements 
to a state of utmost perfection, should not have 
been allowed to lead their own lives ! It could 
not be. Contact with the rude explorers and 
traders, who treated them as slaves, to do with 
them as they chose, necessarily developed the 
worst side of their character, and their fate as 
a race on the Labrador coast would long ago 
have been sealed, had it not been for these 
Moravians, who by kindness and long-suffering, 
and by privations unnumbered, made them the 
happy, peaceful, God-fearing people we have 
just seen. 



190 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE ESKIMO DOG 

" The Esquimaux dog is surly and obstinate, because his treat- 
ment is such as not to develop the nobler parts of his moral 
nature : he is a slave, ever toiling and hardly used ; subjected to 
want and blows, to cold and extreme fatigue; seldom, except 
perhaps by way of excitement in the chase, does he receive a 
kind word of thankful encouragement ; unless indeed from the 
women, by whom he is uniformly better treated than by the men : 
it is from the women that this poor animal receives care and 
attention when sick or helpless, and the consequence is that the 
women have the complete ascendency over his affection, and their 
words can prevail when the blows and threatenings of the men 
only excite obstinate disobedience ; but let the voice of a female 
issue the orders, and obedience is promptly and willingly 
rendered." 

— ''History of the Dog," 1845, ^- C- L. Martin. 

" His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs, 
Showed he was nane o' Scotland's dogs. 
But whalpit some place far abroad. 
Where sailors gang to fish for cod." 

— " The Twa Dogs," Burns. 

/^NE of the most interesting studies on the 

Labrador coast is the Eskimo dog or 

husky .^ I first awoke to his importance and 

* The term " husky " is also used for Eskimo. 
191 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

prominence in the life of the people during my 
stay at Battle Harbour on the way north. The 
Eskimo dog is a handsome wolf, a great shaggy 
beast, gray or white, or mottled white and 
black. At times he assumes a tawny yellowish 
hue. About his shoulders the hair is especially 
long and shaggy. His nose is pointed and 
rather short, his tail bushy and curved forward 
so that it touches his back. In size he is larger 
than a large shepherd dog. 

I was told that I should hear the Battle 
Harbour band. I shall never forget it. I have 
never heard wolves howl, but I can easily 
believe that their howl and that of the huskies 
is alike. I did not hear a true Eskimo dog 
bark. The first night at Battle Harbour I lay 
awake for some time listening with great en- 
joyment to the " band." A few dogs outside 
my window began to howl low and softly. The 
volume of sound swelled till it became like the 
rushing of a mighty wind, — wild, fear-inspir- 
ing. Again it died away, only to, come again 
with the deep tones of an organ. Immediately 
the refrain was taken up by a group of dogs 

192 



THE ESKIMO DOG 

at the next house, and again by those farther 
on, until the great chorus stretched throughout 
the whole village. Then all was silent. Anon 
it began again at some distant outpost and 
passed from group to group. At Nain there 
are sometimes three hundred of these dogs in 
winter, and their nocturnal concerts are said 
to be most imposing. Some day an Eskimo — 
and they are a musical race — will compose 
an opera, and the howling of the dogs will 
form the motif. 

The Eskimo dog has taken but a slight step 
in his evolution from the wolf to man's closest 
companion among the lower animals. Yet but 
little seems to be needed to make him as thor- 
oughly canine — I was about to say human — 
as the best and most affectionate of our dogs. 
Huge fellows they are, wolf -like in appearance 
and habits, taught by the iron heel and cruel 
lash of their masters, with rarely a word of 
kindness. No wonder they are fierce! The 
Century Dictionary gives the following quota- 
tion about the husky: "The original Husky 
has always been an animal requiring firm 

195 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

treatment, naturally dangerous and to a great 
extent devoid of affection." 

I was repeatedly told never to attempt to 
pat these dogs, or show any kindness towards 
them, as they did not understand, could not 
understand, such actions, being but half -tamed 
wolves, and that I might be attacked for my 
pains. Stories are told of their wolfish deeds. 
A few years ago a child that we saw at Cart- 
wright fell down and was at once set upon by 
the pack. His mother rushed out and by 
heroic efforts rescued him, horribly injured 
though he was. He was carried many miles to 
Doctor Grenfell, and recovered miraculously. 
He had received fifty-three wounds. Only 
last winter a man from Battle Harbour failed 
to return from a sledge journey. His terribly 
mutilated body was fotmd. The dogs had 
literally torn him to pieces. Farther north, the 
same winter, an aged couple underwent the 
same fate. If any one falls down among a pack 
of dogs, there is great danger of the animals 
ttirning on him, especially if they have been 
fighting among themselves. It is thought that 

196 



THE ESKIMO DOG 

some of these accidents have happened in 
this way, although in other cases the victims 
may have previously been frozen to death. 
After a dog has once bitten a man he must be 
killed. The taste for human flesh once acquired 
can only be eradicated by death. Yet I often 
saw children playing fearlessly among the 
great brutes, tumbling down and crawling 
among them, and I saw one towhead sitting be- 
side an enormous wolf -like creature and placidly 
pounding his toes with a stone. The dog be- 
haved like any well-regiilated Christian dog under 
the circimistances, and bore it like a martyr. 

At Battle Harbour I was introduced to two 
splendid Eskimo dogs, living examples of the 
effects of kindness. They had always been 
treated kindly and well fed. One had been a 
famous leader on Doctor Grenfell's dog sledge. 
They could be as safely fondled as any of our 
most civilized dogs. It required considerable 
courage at first to allow them to lay their great 
noses in one's lap, and to pet and fondle them, 
but I eventually lost all fear of them and once 
foimd myself walking along with my hand in 
197 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the mouth of one of them. This difference in 
nature was apparently largely in management. 
The masters of these friends of mine had 
respected them, treated them with imiform 
kindness both in action and in supplying them 
with food. The lash was used but little and 
only when it was needed. 

The average dog-owner, as far as I could 
learn, was constantly and unnecessarily mal- 
treating his dogs. At a liveyer's house I was 
about to sit on a bench, but hesitated because 
an Eskimo dog was stretched beneath. The 
liveyer, a kind and devoted father, kicked the 
dog out of the way with such severity that he 
howled with pain. Dogs in the way are inva- 
riably kicked, or great stones thrown at them. 
The dogs' fear of stones I learned in a rather 
amusing manner. I had been wandering along 
the shore at Long Tickle, where we were storm- 
bound for a day, watching birds. Taking down 
my binoculars after a longer scrutiny than 
usual, I found, much to my dismay, that I was 
nearly surrotinded by six or seven Eskimo dogs. 
There were no houses in sight, and no one to 

198 



ja i|,i, (|illl[l|»:. wm^'-^^»4tA0U 




Eskimo Dogs at Long Tickle 




A Mountain Tarn near White Bear Bay 



THE ESKIMO DOG 

whom I could call. I retreated in as dignified 
a manner as possible, endeavouring to keep up 
a menacing front, and requesting the dogs to 
go home. They evidently did not imderstand 
English, and I had not then learned any Eskimo 
words. They followed me altogether too closely 
for comfort. I accidentally dropped a pocket- 
compass I was holding in my hand. Should I 
stoop down to pick it up? I remembered the 
warning always to stand up among these dogs, 
never to fall by any chance. If I stooped, they 
might think I was falHng and be on me in an 
instant. However, I did not wish to abandon 
the compass, so fixing my eyes on them with all 
the fierceness I could muster, I stooped. The 
effect was magical. The beasts fled, nor 
stopped to look behind them. Over the hills 
they went, and I saw them no more. It was 
comical! Alone on these barren hills, wind- 
swept and fog- wrapped, I laughed aloud, and 
understood that in future, whenever Eskimo 
dogs appeared threatening, all I had to do was 
to stoop down as if to pick up a stone to throw 
at them. 

201 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

However, my knowledge of Eskimo dogs is 
limited to a very brief season in summer. In 
winter the brutes are hard worked and scantily 
fed. Often for days they go himgry, and they 
must needs desire at times to forage for them- 
selves. In summer, it is true, they are not fed 
at all, but food is plenty, and there is no need 
of their attacking human beings. In the 
sealing season, refuse from this source is abun- 
dant. During the fishing season, cods' heads 
and entrails line the harbours, and are to be had 
for the picking. Caplins and larger fish are 
often thrown up or cast themselves on the 
shore in great numbers. 

But there is another source of food supply 
for the dogs during the spring and early summer, 
one that I studied with considerable interest, 
and I am convinced that the dogs are a cause of 
much injury. It is natural that these dogs, 
foraging for a living, should explore great 
regions of the coast for food, and judging by 
their tracks and signs this was the case, not only 
on the immediate shore, but some distance 
back from it. Dogs were not infrequently to 

202 



THE ESKIMO DOG 

be seen in these out-of-the-way parts. What 
chance, then, have the eggs and young of an 
eider-duck or even a pipit under these circum- 
stances? The manner in which pipits and 
spotted sandpipers flew anxiously about when 
dogs appeared on the scene seemed to point 
to the truth of this theory. I have seen them 
fly at the dogs fiercely, almost hitting them in 
their desire to drive off the intruders. In going 
ashore from the steamer for a hasty reconnais- 
sance of the bird inhabitants, I soon learned to 
expect a dearth of grotind-nesting birds if 
Eskimo dogs were plenty, while at fishing 
stations where there were no liveyers, and con- 
sequently no dogs, I could count on finding 
these birds near at hand. 

For this reason I am an advocate of the 
substitution of the reindeer for the Eskimo 
dog, although it hardly seems possible that this 
can be brought about. All the dogs must first 
be killed. The two animals cannot exist to- 
gether. The dogs would eat the reindeer. 
The difficulties of substitution of the reindeer 
for the dog suggest the old problem of erecting 

203 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

a new prison on the site of the old without 
freeing the prisoners. The Eskimo and the 
Hveyer have for generations depended on their 
dogs, and know their value in many a fierce 
winter's struggle. They can hardly be expected 
to bum their bridges behind them, and embark 
on what appears to them to be a doubtful ex- 
periment. 

The arguments for the reindeer are many. 
In the first place it does not bite. It will not 
eat the domestic hen or pig, goat or cow, as does 
the dog. It gives milk, skin for clothing, flesh 
for food, and above all it can subsist even in 
winter by its own efforts, living on reindeer 
lichen. Whether this supply on the coast will 
prove adequate seems a serious question. But 
I do not pretend to discuss the great problem. 
Simply from a bird-lover's point of view the 
Eskimo dog should go. However, he is a fine 
brute and I am glad I have made his acquaint- 
ance. 

I saw several litters of puppies, and fat roly- 
poly little creatures they were, albeit rather 
unsatisfactory to one who wished to fondle 

204 



THE ESKIMO DOG 

them in the manner such tempting little puppies 
should be fondled. Attempts to approach them 
produced menacing attitudes on their parts, 
and speedy retreats to some cavern under a 
rock or tilt. Furthermore, — and this was still 
more discouraging, — the hair on their mother's 
back had a way of erecting itself at these 
times. 

Of dog sledges or komatiks I can speak only 
from what I saw of them during this brief 
summer vacation. They were lying about at 
every liveyer settlement and Eskimo village 
along the coast, waiting for the long winter. 
I once heard Doctor Grenfell say that he had 
tried miany winter sports, but that none of 
them equalled the great sport of driving a dog 
team. The komatiks are long, low wooden 
sleds, plain, ordinary-looking affairs. The top 
boards are secured with thongs, as no nails will 
resist the strain and wracking to which they 
are subjected. The runners are of iron or of 
strips of bone cut from a whale's jaws. The 
bone runners are preferred when the snow is 
soft and melting. I obtained from an Eskimo 

205 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

a good model of a komatik with its team of 
Eskimo dogs all carved out of wood. Each 
dog's tail curved over its back made a perfect 
ring. 



206 



CHAPTER IX 

CAPE CHARLES AND CAPTAIN CARTWRIGHT 

" O for a lodge in some vast wilderness." 

— "■The Task;' Cowper. 

TTAVING failed to make connections by 
some paltry two hours with the Home 
going south, we were obliged to spend a week 
at Battle Harbour, instead of on the Southern 
Labrador coast as we had intended, but a most 
profitable and enjoyable week it was. With the 
pleasant company of the jolly " King of Battle 
Harbour," as skipper, we sailed some six miles 
to Indian Cove, Cape Charles, and were given 
hospitable welcome at the house of one of the 
numerous Pyes who populate this region, — 
and a sturdy and well-favoured race they are. 

The view from the front porch of the house 

is characteristic and well worth noting. A 

short gimshot away is the small harbour, leading 

in from a narrow tickle between a high rock}'' 

207 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

island and the mainland. Back from the 
harbour the rocky hills rise precipitously to the 
height of several hundred feet. On the sides 
of these rocks and in the narrow shelf along 
the shore the houses of some sixteen families 
are crowded in wherever they can find a foot- 
hold, while the shore itself is covered with 
platforms built on poles over the water. These 
support fish-houses and fish-flakes. The fish- 
houses are of all kinds, from the white painted 
one with a hip-roof, to the low shacks or huts, 
whose roofs are covered with green and flower- 
ing sods. Fishing-boats in numbers are anchored 
in the cove, while others, picturesque veterans 
in various stages of dilapidation, are pulled 
up on the shore. Immediately in front of the 
house, between it and the fish-houses, is an 
extensive fish-flake, covered with fir boughs, 
and spread in places with fish, in places 
with neat piles of this standard article. 

Perhaps the most conspicuous object in the 
landscape is a large frame erected on poles. 
This frame has various compartments, in three 
of which are stretched sealskins, as if in em- 

208 




Indian Cove, Cape Charles 




Indian Cove, Cape Charles 



CAPE CHARLES 

broidery stretchers. Another frame with two 
more sealskins is near at hand. The usual 
wood-piles, arranged wigwam-shape, and made 
of spruce and fii poles fifteen or twenty feet 
long, are now so familiar that I hardly notice 
them. All along the edges of the stages, tall 
poles are erected with wooden blocks at the 
tops, by which fish-nets are hoisted to dry. 
Great black kettles for trying out seal and fish 
oil are dotted about. 

A little way up the hill on the left is another 
characteristic Labrador feature. A bit of 
grotind, perhaps fifteen by twenty feet in area, 
is protected from the winds and from the all- 
devouring dogs by a strong and high fence. 
In this sacred enclosure the dark moist groimd 
is deeply trenched for drainage, and some baby 
turnips and cabbages are making a brave 
attempt to grow. In one comer a few rhubarb 
plants are doing the same. The small leaves 
of the turnips and cabbages are boiled and 
eaten, as the plants rarely reach maturity. 
I promise to send my friends in this cove some 
seeds of kohl-rabbi and Swiss chard, believing 

211 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

that these plants will successfully combat the 
conditions existing there. 

On the right of the house, a mountain 
stream comes babbling down over the rocks, 
and falls in a little cascade, a spot resorted to 
by the villagers with pails and jugs, — pitchers 
do not thrive in this English atmosphere. The 
familiar door-yard bird in this interesting 
environment is the noble white-crowned spar- 
row, and he is catching insects by the steps 
and singing from the wood-pile as I write. I 
am thankful for many blessings as I sit here, 
and not the least that there are no English 
house-sparrows in all Labrador. 

I have doubtless omitted many interesting 
features, but it would take long study to grasp 
all the details in this confusing picture. One 
very movable and ever interesting point must, 
however, be mentioned, and that is the dogs. 
In this particular region the breed does not 
seem to be pure Eskimo. The dogs are of a 
slightly smaller race, and their bushy tails are 
usually held out behind like a fox's brush in- 
stead of curling over the back. Besides the 

212 



CAPE CHARLES 

howl, they also occasionally bark. Very fierce 
and wolfish they look when their great shaggy 
mane is erected and they show their canine 
fangs. 

In winter this populous cove is deserted. 
In October, before the ice blocks the water- 
ways, the families move in their great fishing- 
boats, and sail up to the more protected regions 
of the Lodge, a deep bay some nine or ten miles 
distant. Here they ascend the St. Charles 
River into the woods, where they occupy their 
winter houses, and are more protected from 
the wintry blasts than when on the coast. 
The great business of the winter is hunting 
and trapping for furs. They also cut the spruce 
and larch and balsam fir, which in this warm 
and protected region grow to the height of 
fifteen or twenty feet. These poles are rafted 
down to Indian Cove when the ice breaks up 
in the spring 

In March, while the country is still locked 
in winter's icy embrace, the return journey 
is made by dog sledges. Over lake and forest 
they speed in a nearly straight line to their 

213 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

summer home, so as to be ready for the seal 
hunt. The seal are shot or clubbed on the ice, 
and later, when the ice leaves, are taken in 
nets. The skins are used for clothing and boots, 
the fat is tried out for oil, and the flesh dried 
for dog food. Then come the salmon and later 
the cod, the chief harvest of the coast. Both 
spring and fall they shoot many ducks and 
other water-fowl. And so the time goes. The 
life is indeed an interesting and varied one. 

The people are a sturdy and contented- 
looking race. It is true that they lack many 
things that we call necessities, and are entirely 
ignorant of most of our luxuries, but to my 
mind they are infinitely better off than the 
toiling slum dwellers of our great cities, yea, 
even than many a possessor of a palace there, 
who spends his unhealthy life in a feverish 
scramble for money and amusement. 

While birds as always were my chief study 
and delight here, I had one sentimental object 
in view in visiting Cape Charles, and that was 
to find where Captain George Cartwright, 
gentleman trapper and adventurer, lived at 

214 



CAPE CHARLES 

the time when the American colonists were 
fighting for their freedom from England. 

July 30, 1906, is a clear, warm day, with a 
southwesterly wind and the glass at 70° when 
we start on our sentimental journey at half- 
past six in the morning. It is a hot day in 
these parts, and we are devoured by flies, big 
and little. Our path leads over a high hill and 
down into the valley by the whale factory, 
whose savoury precincts we avoid by passing to 
windward. Again we climb a high hill, and in 
the arctic regions of its summit, pipits flit 
about and horned larks anxiously call their 
young. 

As we plunge down into the Hudsonian 
zone, into a valley where the larches, firs, and 
spruces bravely raise their heads to a height 
of five or six feet, our ears are greeted with the 
familiar song of the robin. Fox-sparrows are 
singing their wonderfully clear and flute-like 
song. I am impressed with the perfection of 
this song and its wild beauty, but I miss a 
certain indefinable charm or spiritual quality 
which appeals to me in the song of some other 

215 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

birds that are inferior performers. For ex- 
ample, while I stand listening, I am enthralled 
,by the plaintive melody of the white-throated 
sparrow, who under the protection of the woods 
has crept thus far north. White-crowned 
sparrows are also singing, and the retiring 
Lincoln's sparrow is good enough to sing twice 
for our benefit his bubbhng purple-finch song. 
Occasionally a tree-sparrow chants his simple 
ditty. A Wilson's warbler greets us at close 
range, and eyes us inquisitively. He is singing 
meanwhile, and turns his head from side to 
side, showing his glossy black cap. How 
different his actions from those of the elusive 
and secretive Tennessee warbler. 

Our passage through these rugged woods is 
slow and painful. The stiff and crooked 
branches of the trees interlock for self-protec- 
tion. One great advantage in many of these 
regions is that when one is uncertain about 
the way, by standing on tiptoes one can gener- 
ally overlook the forest. 

Over more mountainous hills and through 
deep vales we toil, at last reaching the head of 

216 



CAPE CHARLES 

White Bear Bay, Here a small stream flows 
down from the little tarn above. With the aid 
of a silver doctor fly, I soon land a dozen trout, 
dark red and spotted as only mountain trout 
can be. The brook teems with them, and 
several throw themselves out of the water at 
once when the fly is cast. However^ this is 
not a fishing expedition, and more trout we 
cannot eat, so the rod is put up reluctantly, 
and we continue on our way, as it is already 
high noon. 

Forming the northern side of White Bear 
Bay is a rocky promontory with a narrow 
neck, and here we find the site of one of Cart- 
wright's first abiding-places on these shores. 
A level bit of ground it is, with White Bear 
Bay but a stone's throw to the south, and the 
entrance to the Lodge, a deep bay, equally 
distant on the north. Here is the evidence of 
an ancient house site. There is a small depres- 
sion in the grotind, a number of large stones, 
some of them flat, bits of what might have 
been mortar, and some portions of rough bricks, 
some red, some yellow, some parti-coloured. 

217 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

The clay of the red bricks is rough, with small 
contained pebbles. All are more or less covered 
with moss and lichen. A circle of grass, fire- 
weed, and yarrow grows about. Can this 
yarrow, an English plant, be the descend- 
ant of some yarrow brought over by Cart- 
wright 130 years ago? The thought is pleasing. 
It is the only yarrow I have seen anywhere 
at Cape Charles. On either side of this de- 
pression, and extending back some thirty 
paces, two low parallel mounds of earth over- 
grown with curlew berry and reindeer moss 
can be dimly traced. These low earthworks, 
not over a foot high, are nine paces apart, and 
a flat gravel floor, moss -covered, separates 
them. The end of one of them turns squarely 
at right angles, and extends three yards in front 
of the depression where the bricks are found. 
Behind rises gently a bare hill, on which, 
no doubt, Cartwright shot many a fat cirrlew. 
Close at hand is a cool spring in the deep 
sphagnum moss, and a few stunted firs and 
larches struggle painfully to raise their heads 
a couple of feet. Ancient gnarled trees they 

218 



CAPE CHARLES 

are, some of them doubtless first starting on 
their Hfe's struggle in Cartwright's time. There 
are good anchoring places for boats on either 
side of the promontor}^ and several inviting 
coves. It is an ideal spot, one that a man of 
Cartwright's breeding might well have enjoyed 
to the full. 

This description I wrote on the spot. On 
my return to Boston, I re-read Cartwright's 
Journal and found that, although he first built 
at the mouth of the St. Charles River at the 
head of the Lodge, he afterwards removed to 
a point near White Bear Bay, evidently the 
place I have just described. On June 26, 1774, 
he writes, " our new dwelHng-house " was 
begun, and he speaks of the work on the wharf 
and houses. On July 14th, the following entry 
occurs: " All the shoremen were employed on 
the dwelling-house, and the bricklayer began 
the kitchen chimney." The most interesting 
record in this connection is tmder date of 
August 27, 1774: " Our new house being now 
habitable, we took possession of it to-day. 
It is seventy feet by twenty-five, and contains 

219 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

a kitchen twenty-four feet square, a dining- 
room twenty-four by sixteen, six bedrooms 
and a small passage, being only a ground floor ; 
which I preferred for fear of fire." In another 
place he says the bricks and lime were brought 
by him from England. 

The measurements of the house, as given by 
Cartwright, and of the low motinds that I had 
paced correspond so closely that it is evident 
that these latter originally formed the base or 
foimdation of the house. 

It is a very hot day for the Labrador. The 
glass stands at 80° in the shade. A plimge and 
short swim in the icy waters of White Bear 
Bay is a fitting prelude to a dinner of erbswurst 
soup, two pans full of trout, whose tender 
flesh melts in the mouth, a half-loaf of bread, 
and a bit of chocolate, all washed down with 
copious draughts from Cartwright's spring. 
The sentimental and material memories of this 
day will long abide with me. 

The Journal I refer to was written by George 
Cartwright, Esq., and published in Newark, 
England, in 1792. It is in three weighty quarto 
220 



CAPE CHARLES 

volumes entitled ** A Journal of Transactions 
and Events during a Residence of nearly sixteen 
years on the Coast of Labrador, containing 
many interesting particulars both of the Country 
and its Inhabitants not hitherto known. Illus- 
trated with proper Charts." Cartwright's was 
an interesting career. Born in England, in 
1739, he served imder Clive in India, reaching 
the rank of captain. On May 25, 1770, in the 
Nimrod, a schooner of fifty tons, Cartwright 
set out from Bristol, England, for Labrador, 
which he reached on July 27th. 

In the preface of the Journal he says : " Con- 
scious of my inability to entertain the reader 
with the Style and Language of some late 
writers, I humbly solicit his candour and in- 
dulgence. . . . However great some of its [the 
Joumal's] defects may appear, I hope they will 
in some measure be compensated for by the 
veracity of my narrative." One is impressed 
with the truth of the latter statement. The 
Journal, which is a matter-of-fact record of the 
writer's daily life and his checkered experiences 
as trapper, hunter, and fisherman, contains 
221 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

many acute observations in natiiral history. 
In this early period caribou came in great 
numbers every winter to the shore and its 
islands. The polar bear was a common animal, 
and bred even in southern Labrador, while the 
black bear resorted in large numbers to the 
streams in the spring when they were crowded 
with salmon. Beavers and their dams were 
common, and the habits of this animal are 
described at some length by Cartwright. The 
bird life is vividly portrayed in the accounts 
of the flights of curlew in the fall, the great 
numbers of ducks and geese, murres and gulls, 
crowding the islands and furnishing the polar 
bears and Cartwright 's Company with many 
feasts of eggs. 

Cartwright first settled at Cape Charles, as 
we have already seen. Later he established 
another post at Sandwich Bay, the present 
site of the Hudson Bay Post of Cartwright. 

In shooting, egging, salmon fishing, and 
cruising along the coast in summer, visiting 
his traps and exploiing the hills on " rackets " 
or snow-shoes for game in winter, contending 

222 



CAPE CHARLES 

against snow-storms and intense cold, Cart- 
wright led an interesting life, and one that he 
seems to have enjoyed to the full. The long 
severe winters had no terrors for him, and he 
enthusiastically extols the climate and com- 
pares it favourably with that of England. Be- 
ing a man of tact and good sense, he was on 
the most friendly terms with the Eskimos, who 
were then numerous in southern. Labrador, and 
he gives a most interesting description of their 
manners and customs. Several of the Eskimos 
he took across the water for a visit to London, 
where they were royally entertained, but most 
unfortunately all except one died of the small- 
pox. 

He records with Pepys's faithfulness his 
labour and domestic problems as well as his 
medical work among his servants and the 
Eskimos. His servants are frequently given 
a taste of the rope's end to keep them in order, 
a punishment they doubtless deserved, judging 
from records such as the following, which are 
common: "December 24, 1774, at night all 
hands were drunk and fighting, according to 

223 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

annual custom." They mutiny when refused 
salt pork, although given all the venison they 
can eat. He is obliged to act the part of judge 
and jury, and divorce his wife in the midst of 
a long winter, for manifestly unbecoming con- 
duct. He prides himself on his bloodletting, 
purges, blisters, and handiness in midwifery. 

On August 27, 1778, in Sandwich Bay, he 
is visited by the privateer Minerva from Bos- 
ton, commanded by Capt. John Grimes, and 
despoiled of one of his vessels and much hard 
won peltry; while he feasts the officers on 
venison and curlew. He writes: " I cannot be 
less than fourteen thousand pounds worse for 
this visit," and he adds: " May the devil go 
with them." He philosophically ends his 
journal for the day thus: "And I had the 
pleasure to find that they had forgot a puncheon 
of olive-oil, and my three live swine. As soon 
as they were gone, I took up my gun, walked 
out upon the island, and shot a curlew. A very 
fine day." 

Some time after this, he is visited by a British 
war- vessel and laments that he has only salt 

224 



CAPE CHARLES 

pork with which to entertain the company- 
He makes several voyages to and from England, 
and returns for the last time to his native 
coimtry in October, 1786, in a packet from 
New Brunswick, having as his cabin companion 
Benedict Arnold. 

Southey's description of Cartwright is most 
interesting. He says: "I saw Major Cart- 
wright (the sportsman, not the patriot) in 1791. 
I was visiting with the Lambs, at Hampstead, 
in Kent, at the house of Hodges, his brother- 
in-law; we had nearly finished dinner when 
he came in. He desired the servant to cut him 
a plate of beef from the sideboard. I thought 
the footman meant to insult him: the plate 
was piled to a height which no ploughboy 
after a hard day's fasting could have levelled; 
but the moment he took up his knife and fork, 
and arranged the plate, I saw this was no 
common man. A second and third supply 
soon vanished. Mr. and Mrs. Lamb, who had 
never before seen him, glanced at each other; 
but Tom and I, with schoolboys* privilege, 
kept our eyes riveted upon him with what 

225 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

Doctor Butt would have called the gaze of 
admiration. * I see you have been looking 
at me ' (said he, when he had done). ' I have 
a very great appetite. I once fell in with a 
stranger in the shooting season and we dined 
together at an inn. There was a leg of mutton 
which he did not touch. I never make more 
than two cuts off a leg of mutton; the first 
takes all one side, the second all the other; and 
when I had done this, I laid the bone across 
my knife for the marrow.' The stranger could 
refrain no longer. ' By God, sir,' said he, ' I 
never saw a man eat like you.' 

" This man had strength and perseverance 
charactered in every muscle. He eat three 
cucumbers, with a due quantity of bread and 
cheese, for his breakfast the following morning. 
I was much pleased with him, he was good- 
humoured and communicative; his long res- 
idence on the Labrador coast made his con- 
versation as instructive as interesting. I had 
never before seen so extraordinary a man, and 
it is not therefore strange that my recollection 
of his manner, and words, and countenance 

226 



CAPE CHARLES 

should be so strong after an interval of six 
years. 

" I read his book in 1793, and, strange as 
it may seem, actually read through the three 
quartos. At that time I was a verbatim reader 
of indefatigable patience, but the odd simplicity 
of the book amused me — the importance he 
attached to his traps delighted me, it was so 
unlike a book written for the world — the 
solace of a solitary evening in Labrador. I 
fancied him blockaded by the snows, rising 
from a meal upon the old, tough, high-flavoured, 
hard-sinewed wolf, and sitting down like Robin- , 
son Crusoe to his journal. 

" The annals of his campaigns among the foxes 
and beavers interested me more than ever did 
the exploits of Marlborough or Frederic; be- 
sides, I saw plain truth and the heart in Cart- 
wright's book and in what history could I look 
for this? 

" The print is an excellent likeness. Let me 
add that whoever would know the real history 
of the beaver must look for it in this work. 
The common accoimts are fables. 

227 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

" Coleridge took up a volume one day, and 
was delighted with its strange simplicity." 

Cartwright died at Mansfield in Notting- 
hamshire on February 19, 181 9, at the ripe 
age of eighty years. His was indeed a pic- 
tiiresque character. 



228 



CHAPTER X 

ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

" Roving the trackless realms of Lyonness 

Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn." 

— Tennyson. 

" There sometimes doth a leaping fish 
Send through the tarn a lonely cheer. 
The crags repeat the raven's croak, 
In symphony austere." 

— Wordsworth. 

nr^HE good people of Indian Cove are dressed 
in their best clothes, the men in black 
coats, some of them even in " bowlers," the 
women with bright bits of finery. It is Sunday, 
and a yotmg lay reader has come to the Cove 
the night before, and is to read service at the 
little chapel. 

As for ourselves, we act in the eyes of the 
villagers, no doubt, the parts of unregenerate 
heathen. Our Labrador days are all too short, 
the outside world too enchanting. We must 
needs worship at the great shrine of Nature, 

229 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

and worship we do through ten glorious hotirs 
that day. 

Although I have no intention, like the Eng- 
lishman on " fine days," of killing anything, 
yet I feel that I ought to take my gun, in case 
some unusual or unknown bird should cross 
our path. Rather than conceal the parts of 
my gun in my old shooting-jacket, I make a 
clean breast of my intentions to my good host, 
but disclaim any wish to hurt his feelings. He 
is a liberal man and says it is for me to decide. 
As for himself, only twice has he fired a gun 
on Sunday. Once he had shot a fierce dog, 
an act of necessity. On the other occasion he 
admits he was tempted by the devil and fell. 
While in a boat with some companions, he 
found himself on a sudden surrounded by six 
otters. The men cotdd not resist the temptation 
and the otters were slain. He adds medita- 
tively that, although the men of the Cove 
consider it very wicked to fire a gun on Sim- 
day, they have no hesitation about chasing a 
wounded bird or beast about for hours, with 
sticks and stones, with the hope of capturing it. 
230 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

I decide to take my gun, and it may be added 
that I have no occasion to use it, a fact which 
gives great pleasure to my hostess, who tells 
me I shall — in consequence of my enforced 
piety, no doubt — have good luck on the 
morrow. Such are the inconsistencies of himian 
nature. 

A little way back from the Cove, the Sentinel, 
a hill of naked rock, like all these arctic hills, 
rises up to the height of 654 feet. Hitherwards 
we first turn our steps, and, stretched on a bed 
of reindeer lichen, we drink in the glorious air 
and view. Beneath us lies the little cove we 
have just left, with its cluster of houses and 
fishing-stages, the waters of its harbour dotted 
with fishing- vessels resting from their labours 
on the Sabbath. Beyond the Cove are the 
narrow tickles and the small rocky islands, and 
beyond these across the water lies Great Caribou 
Island with its raven cliff. On the farther 
side of this island is Battle Harbour. On the 
other side is the unknown country we are 
longing to explore, a confused mass of moim- 
tainous rocky hill, rising one behind the other, 

231 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

deep inlets from the sea and scattered lakes. 
It is a land of desolation, but its very desolation 
and wildness have a charm which it is difficult 
to express or explain. The crisp reindeer lichen 
on which we lie seems good enough to eat, in 
fact its taste and consistency are not unlike that 
of " shredded wheat," but unlike the reindeer, 
we can extract, I fear, no nourishment from 
it. 

On the western side of the Sentinel in a small 
valley, where willows, alders, firs, and spruces 
grow about shoulder high, we had heard the 
day before the song of the Tennessee warbler, 
and thither we direct our steps. At Lark 
Harbour in Newfoundland, at Mary Harbour 
and Rigolet in Labrador, w^e had already 
heard this elusive bird, but our utmost efforts 
had resulted in but momentary glimpses of a 
sm.all neat bird, almost white below and darker 
above. These glimpses, together with the song, 
were sufficient for identification. I know it 
is not customary in this day of Audubon 
Societies to speak of such a dreadful thing as 
the shooting of a bird, in a book of the nature- 

232 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

loving class, but I believe above all things in 
frankness, and I will confess here that I wished 
for scientific purposes to obtain a specimen of 
this warbler, so that there might not be the 
slightest suspicion of error, I will also confess 
that I made a complete failure of it, that I did 
not get so far even as to fire at this elusive 
bird an5rwhere. Having confessed this, I will 
say that I am a member of the Audubon Society, 
and that I desire above all things to protect 
birds. In many of the nature books that I 
have read, an astute reader can hear the report 
of the gun between the lines, but the writer 
is more discreet than I, and says nothing about 
it. I might also say, in passing, that the great 
Audubon probably killed more birds than 
almost any man now living. But he was a 
true bird-lover, and in sla5dng he immortalized 
these birds. 

We reached the haunts of the Tennessee 
warbler, and, stretching ourselves on the hillside, 
prepared to wait for his song and for a hoped- 
for sight of the performer. To the west lies 
what appears to be a lake surrounded by small 

233 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

motintains with rounded peaks, irregularly 
tumbled about and naked of vegetation, except 
in the sheltered gullies where the dwarfed trees 
desperately cling to life. The " lake " is about 
a mile in diameter and contains a rocky island. 
On more careful scrutiny I notice a white 
line of surf along the shore. This and the 
subdued roar that comes to my ears shows me 
that the " lake " throbs with the pulse of old 
ocean, and that it is one of the numerous off- 
shoots from the sea, and not a mountain lake 
as I had supposed. I also discover that 
even where there is no surf in these secluded 
harbours, the pink line of rock bare of lichens 
along the shore distinguishes the salt-water 
harbour from the true lake where the lichen- 
covered rocks and green sphagnum moss extend 
to the water-line. Beyond rises an amphi- 
theatre of hills whose heights it is difficult to 
estimate. If the spruces and firs, which fill 
the valleys, are of the size common along the 
Maine coast, it is easy to picture the hills 
as rugged mountains of three thousand feet. 
But I know these same forests are of dwarfed 

234 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

and pitiful size, and the mountains dwindle 
therefore to hills of a thousand feet. 

Nearer at hand are groups of dwarf balsam 
firs huddling close together for protection from 
the arctic blasts, showing by their blighted tops 
that theii' ambitious hopes had been nipped. 
Again there are groups of black spruces, alders, 
and willows all about shoulder high, inter- 
spersed with meadows of grasses, rushes, and 
horsetails, through which meanders a little 
brook. The air is sweet with the breath of the 
firs and the twinflower, — the lovely Linnce 
horealis, — here a deeper pink than I had ever 
seen it. Labrador tea, Clintonia, and dwarf 
cornel are still in flower, and the bake-apple 
berries are beginning to take on a rosy blush. 

Over the salt-water lake a great black- 
backed gull is sailing in graceful circles, and 
the distant croak of a raven is borne to our 
ears from a rugged cliff along the shore. Nearer 
at hand an Alice's thrush is calling in its vig- 
orous night-hawk style. Fox-sparrows are 
carolling forth their wild music and smacking 
Hke brown thrashers as they scratch among 

235 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the leaves. The song of a lonely white-throat 
comes up pure and serene from a thicket. A 
black-poll warbler lazily drones his simple 
lay, tsit, tsit, tsit, the notes growing rapidly 
louder and then suddenly and unexpectedly 
becoming faint and indistinguishable. The 
bird is too lazy to change the key. The notes 
are all alike. Occasionally he utters his alarm- 
note, a sharp chip, but the call-note, tsit, such 
a common note during the migrations, is seldom 
heard. 

A Lincoln's sparrow is chipping in the bushes, 
and makes so bold as to show himself for an 
instant. His is a retiring nature. He rarely 
forgets himself even in the ecstasy of song, 
for even at this time he is concealed in an alder 
bush or in the depths of a spruce or fir. Careful 
and persistent stalking will alone reward the 
bird watcher, yet the bird will stop singing and 
skulk like a mouse in the bushes if he but 
suspect that he is an object of attention. The 
young birds are less cautious. It is on this 
accoimt, I believe, that more Lincoln sparrows 
are seen in Massachusetts during the autumn 

236 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

migration than in the spring. In the spring 
the youngsters that survive are as cautious 
as their elders, and skulk in hedgerows and 
bushes as if their lives depended on it. 

At first sight the Lincoln's sparrow looks 
like a song-sparrow, but when one is accustomed 
to the former bird, its more slender and slightly 
smaller form and the olive instead of buffy 
tints of the back make it easily recognized. 
In addition to this, the smaller spots and the 
olive wash across the breast are characteristic 
on front view. 

The call-note of the Lincoln's sparrow is a 
sharp chip, closely resembling the chip of his 
cousin, the song-sparrow. He also has a way 
of smacking, but his smack is not as rich and 
forceful as that of the fox-sparrow. His song 
— or at least the song we heard, for he indulges 
in a variety — begins like the song of a purple 
finch, although quicker, and ends with a fainter 
trill suggestive of a house- wren. It is a wild 
and interesting song, and well fits his secretive 
character. 

In marked contrast to the Lincoln's sparrow 

237 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the energetic and restless redpolls are con- 
stantly flitting about, singing their excuse for 
a song on the wing or in plain sight on the tip- 
top of a spruce. Verily bird nature varies as 
widely as human nature. 

The chief object of our search, for which we 
lie down silently for an hour and examine the 
thickets for another hour, gives but a meagre 
exposition of himself this morning. The 
Tennessee warbler sings two or three times from 
the interior of a willow thicket, and then begins 
a series of sharp small chippings which soon 
cease, however, when we attempt to see its 
author, and we are left helpless without any 
clue to his whereabouts, nor will he deign to 
sing or chip again. However, we are content, 
for we have added the chip to our stock of 
knowledge of this bird. Before, although he 
had simg and we had caught passing glimpses of 
him, he had not chipped. His song as I wrote 
it down when fully given seems to be divisible, 
like Caesar's Gatd, into three parts, and goes 
like this : chee-chee-chee — twt-twt-twt — see-see- 
see. This is a very imperfect representation 

238 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

of it, but I found it helped me to memorize the 
song. Whether it will help any one else, I am 
doubtful. Part of the song reminds one of the 
song of the Nashville warbler. 

Reluctantly we give up our search and press 
on westward for pastures new. At the foot of 
the valley is a small pond enclosed in a minia- 
ture forest, through which our progress is slow 
but interesting. Above this pond a stream 
drops some thirty feet over the rocks and we 
climb to another level where there is another 
pond. Above this is a series of ponds, some 
with sandy shores, others overlapped with 
fringes of sphagnum. The secret of all these 
ponds or tarns at various levels lies in their 
hard rock bottoms, which securely hold the 
waters and prevent their emptying themselves 
by the cutting down of their outlets. Trout 
leap from time to time in the tarns, and there 
are doubtless plenty of them there. 

At last we strike a well-defined trail about the 
width of a komatik cut through the dwarf 
forest. In a deep gully the trees are taller, but 
those near the trail are cut about six feet from 

239 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the ground, suggestive of deep snows and win- 
ter's cold. A bit of bone runner belonging to 
a komatik as well as numerous dog signs con- 
firm our suspicions as to the use of this trail. 
That the trail is used in winter only is brought 
forcibly to our attention by the fact that it 
ends abruptly at the shores of a pond, while at 
the other side we can make out its continuance. 
Crossing the pond in winter must take but a 
minute or two. In summer it is another matter. 
The woods are almost impenetrable, and they 
are too tall here to trample on or even to look 
over. The shore of the pond seems preferable, 
and by careful work, swinging around on the 
bushes and trees, jumping from rock to rock, 
and occasionally wading, we manage to reach 
the opposite side. 

After this exertion a bath would be attract- 
ive, but the flies make it impossible, so we 
turn to at once with a will and cook and eat 
our dinner. 

It may be well here to diverge a little on the 
subject of flies, for Labrador flies are famous. 
Perhaps because we had heard so much about 

240 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

them, we have been agreeably disappointed, 
or perhaps during our brief visits back from the 
immediate coast we have been particularly 
fortunate. However, they were bad enough, 
but not nearly as bad as the natives seemed 
to think. It is true that when I first went into 
the woods, the black flies had caused my face 
to swell so that I began to think of mumps, 
but I soon became inoculated and developed 
an antitoxin so that black fly bites ceased to 
swell to such an extent. My companion, who 
was collecting flies for an entomological friend, 
once remarked that two kinds of mosquitoes, 
a midge, the black fly, and four kinds of horse 
and moose flies were attacking us. The largest 
of the latter species is three-quarters of an 
inch long and takes great bites without so 
much as by your leave. Our friends at Indian 
Cove called the large ones " wops "; whether 
they meant by this wasps or whoppers, I do 
not know, but both terms are equally appro- 
priate. 

We discarded tar in favour of equal parts of 
oil of citronella and olive-oil. It is true that 

241 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

this smells like cheap perfumery, and an 
Eskimo girl at one house where we stayed 
evidently enjoyed using some of our mixture 
as a hair-oil, yet we grew quite fond of the 
odour, and were delighted to see that a fresh 
application had an opposite effect on the flies. 
I also fondly hoped to be able to recommend 
it as a cure for loss of hair. I am, however, 
still in considerable doubt on this latter point. 

The " amateur geologist " we met on the 
Home told a very good story of opening some 
small cans of devilled ham for men who had 
helped him on a portage in Newfoundland. 
As he was opening some more tins, he noticed 
that one of the men was rubbing the contents 
on his face. " I thought it was to keep off the 
flies, sorrh! " he said. 

Mosquito netting helmets that fold up for 
the pocket we carried for dread emergencies, 
but used them only once or twice. They are 
excellent when one is occupied with a trout 
on a fly rod, but somewhat distiirbing in the 
use of binoculars. However, one can sleep 
in them with great comfort. 

242 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

All things good and bad come to an end, and 
we returned much refreshed in body and soul 
by our service this day in the great church of 
Nature. I think our good hostess had shaken 
her head many times at our heathenish way of 
spending the Sabbath, but she gave us with true 
Christian charity a good supper of fishermen's 
brews or brewis. This, let me hasten to explain, 
is a favourite dish in Labrador, and con- 
sists of boiled fish and boiled hard bread with 
squares of fried pork floating in their own fat 
poured over it. It is, in fact, a scientific com- 
bination of fish, fat and farinaceous, and is as 
delicious as it is nourishing. As a great treat 
we were given also some tender cabbage and 
turnip leaves boiled with a piece of fat pork. 
They tasted good, and this was the only occa- 
sion when we had green vegetables in Labrador. 
However, it was still early in the season, only 
the 29th of July. 

Speaking of vegetables, it might be well to 
relate here that one day at Battle Harbour I 
had found the family with whom we were 
staying contemplating with awe a large Hub- 

243 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

bard squash, a present from the captain of a 
salt schooner. They had never seen one before, 
knew nothing of its anatomy, much less of its 
uses and taste. I discoursed with enthusiasm 
on the delights of squash as a vegetable, and 
especially of its virtues as a pie, and, having a 
fine scorn for cook-books, rashly offered to 
make a pie if the good woman would make 
the crust. To be sure there was no milk and 
no eggs, but I felt confident that with the 
liberal use of butter, flour, sugar, and spices 
I could turn out a presentable article, although 
I had never attempted one before. Perhaps I 
was as rash as the man who, when asked 
whether he could play the vioHn, replied that 
he did not know, but he would try. Unfor- 
timately I never had a chance to distinguish 
myself, for I went to Cape Charles the next 
day, and on my return the squash had been 
given away. The family had tried squash as 
a vegetable and pronounced it nasty, so had 
presented the fruit to the nurses at Doctor 
Grenfell's Hospital. They welcomed it with 
open arms as a long lost friend. 

244 



ANOTHER DAY AT CAPE CHARLES 

Our return to Battle Harbour is worth telling. 
It had been foggy all day, but the sun peered 
into the harbour about two in the afternoon, 
and we set sail in a fishing-boat managed by 
three good men and true. Out in the tickle 
we ran into a thick fog and passed by Tilsey 
Island. The skipper steered by compass for 
Black Rock, on the point of Great Caribou 
Island. The sea was running high, and the 
waves knocked the boat about so that steering 
by the dancing needle was difficult, yet soon 
after the men began to listen for the rote, we 
heard it and saw the white breakers. Then 
Black Rock suddenly appeared in the fog wall. 
Gunning Point was next picked up in the same 
way. Then we ran on in the dense fog with 
only a shearwater or two as companions, imtil 
I began to wonder whether after all we had 
missed the entra,nce to the harbour, and were 
sailing out into the bleak Atlantic. The fog 
lay low over the water, while above we had 
occasionally glimpses of the sun. " It is clear 
enough overhead," I incautiously remarked. 
" Yes, but we are not going that way yet, I 

246 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

hope, " replied the skipper. This is a favourite 
joke along the coast. The skipper beguiled 
the time, meanwhile, by telling of his four ship- 
wrecks, and I wondered whether he w^as not a 
Jonah. 

Suddenly we found ourselves in the middle 
of a narrow tickle, between a rock and the 
main island, with surf on either hand. How 
the skipper managed to strike the middle of 
this narrow passage is more than I can under- 
stand, imless instinct, an instinct gained by 
long experience on these treacherous shores, 
guided him, I half -suspect, however, that it 
was merel}'- good luck. We were soon in the 
familiar basin of Battle Harbour and left the 
fog outside. 



246 



CHAPTER XI 

AUDUBON AND THE NEED OF AN AUDUBON 
SOCIETY IN LABRADOR 

" When August comes, if on the Coast you be, 
Thousands of fine Curlews you'll daily see." 

— Cartwrighfs Journal. 

" I had a fine view of the most extensive and the dreariest 
wilderness I have ever beheld. It chilled the heart to gaze on 
these barren lands of Labrador." — Audubon's Journal. 

/^NE of the greatest pleasures in life is 
anticipation. The traveller obtains all 
the information he can of the countries he 
plans to visit, — of its scenery, its history, 
its people. A naturalist not only does this, but 
he also learns as much as he can of the geology, 
the flora, and the fauna. The man who is 
particularly interested in birds, in addition 
makes himself familiar with all the ornithological 
lore of the country. In this way he enjoys in 

247 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

anticipation the pleasures to come, and when 
he reaches his goal he knows what to look for. 
A familiar bird at home may be previously 
unknown or extremely rare in the foreign land. 
Without this previous preparation one might 
pass by many interesting observations. 

It was with this spirit, therefore, that I 
searched any and all books on Labrador that 
might by any chance say anything about birds. 
In this way I came to know the writings of 
Cartwright. My companion and fellow student 
made a card catalogue of the birds of Labrador, 
and to this we added from time to time such 
notes and observations of value as we dis- 
covered in our reading. 

Every professional or business man should 
have his avocation as well as his vocation. 
Woe to him who assiduously pursues his profes- 
sion or business alone for many years with the 
delusion that some day he will retire, and 
enjoy with his gains the leisure and pleasures 
of life. Such hopes without previous training 
in an avocation are generally vain, as many 
a man has found to his cost. He knows no 

248 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

occupation for his leisure, and is too old, alas, 
to learn. He can watch his own symptoms, 
but cannot watch birds or any of the numerous 
interests " in the heavens above or in the earth 
beneath or in the waters under the earth." 
As Stevenson well says : 

" The world is so full of a number of things, 
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings." 

But these deluded mortals are not. Nothing 
really interests them. 

Labrador has an interesting past. The 
doggerel verse by Cartwright emphasizes the 
sad changes that have come over the country. 
As the passenger pigeon in Audubon's day 
flew in coimtless multitudes through the United 
States and is now all but extinct, so the 
Eskimo curlew in former days flocked in great 
numbers every autumn to the Labrador coast. 

Professor Packard, writing of this bird in 
i860, says: " On the loth of August, the cur- 
lews appeared in great numbers. On that day 
we saw a flock which may have been a mile 
long and nearly as broad; there must have 

249 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

been in that flock four or five thousand! The 
sum total of their notes sounded at times 
Hke the wind whistling through the ropes of 
a thousand-ton vessel; at others the sound 
seemed like the jingling of multitudes of sleigh- 
bells." 

The same stories of their former abundance 
I learned from the fishermen all along the coast. 
The birds were delicious food. They fattened 
almost to bursting on the empetrum or curlew 
berry so abundant on the hills. The fishermen 
told me that they always kept their guns 
loaded at the fish-stages, and shot into the 
great flocks as they wheeled by, bringing down 
many a fat bird. About fifteen years ago they 
rapidly diminished in numbers, and now per- 
haps a dozen or two, perhaps none at all, are 
seen in a season. The tale is soon told. The 
places that knew them once in countless mul- 
titudes shall know them no more. 

Curiously enough, the fishermen do not 
attribute the decrease of this splendid bird 
to the wholesale slaughter along the coast. 
They all are imbued with the idea that the 

250 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

curlew troubled the farmers' corn-fields in the 
States, and hence were poisoned. One good 
fellow, when I objected that curlews did not 
eat com, backed up his theory by the statement 
that he had seen corn in their stomachs! This 
is interesting, when one considers that the bird 
in passing through Labrador in the autumn 
comes from still more arctic regions. It has 
been suggested that the sudden falling off in 
nimibers of these curlews may have been 
because they were overwhelmed by a storm 
in their long ocean trip south, — some three 
thousand miles from Labrador to the Antilles. 
It is certain, however, that incessant persecu- 
tion has had something to do with their dimi- 
nution. 

Another bird whose name is forever connected 
with Labrador, namely, the Labrador or pied 
duck, is indeed a bird of the past. It has 
become extinct within the memory of man, 
the last of its race dying at the hand of man, 
the destroyer, in 1874 or 1878, — there is some 
doubt about this latter date. Curiously enough, 
notwithstanding the descriptive name of this 

251 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

duck, we have but few records for Labrador. 
Audubon, in 1833, saw none of them in Labra- 
dor, although he was shown what he beheved 
to be their nests. 

The great auk, one of whose headquarters 
was at Funk Island, on the near-by coast of 
Newfoundland, became extinct about 1853. 
It imdoubtedly disported itself many a time 
and oft along the Labrador coast. Cartwright 
thus quaintly and circumstantially describes 
the capture of one of these birds: "We were 
about four leagues from Groais Island, at sim- 
set [Monday, August 15, 1771], when we saw 
a snow [sailing vessel] standing in for Croque. 
During a calm in the afternoon, Shuglawina 
[an Eskimo] went off in his Kyack, in pursuit 
of a penguin ; ^ he presently came within a 
proper distance of the bird, and stuck his dart 
into it; but, as the weapon did not enter a 
mortal part, the penguin swam and ,dived so 
well that he would have lost both the bird 

' The great auk was formerly called a penguin, the name being 
probably used in this connection before it was applied to the 
entirely different family of birds that now bear this name and 
are confined to the southern seas. 

252 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

and the dart, had he not driven it near enough 
the vessel for me to shoot it." 

The first ornithologist to visit Labrador was 
the illustrious Audubon. He departed on a 
long-contemplated trip to this region from 
Eastport, Maine, on Jtine 6, 1833, on the 
schooner Ripley commanded by Captain Emery. 
His party, all young men under twenty- 
four years of age, consisted of his son, John 
Woodhouse Audubon, Dr. George Shattuck, 
and William Ingalls, of Boston ; Thomas Lincoln, 
of Dennysville, Maine; and Joseph Coolidge. 
They sailed through the Strait of Canso, 
visited the Magdalene Islands, and passed Bird 
Rock, white as snow with gannets. The Rip- 
ley came to anchor in American Harbour, 
near the mouth of the Natasquan River, in 
Labrador, on June 17th. From this point they 
cruised easterly along the southern coast of 
Labrador, touching at Little Mecatine, Bale de 
Portage, and Bradore. 

On their arrival, the breeding season of the 
birds was at its height; eider-ducks, gulls, 
razor-billed auks, puffins, guillemots, and cor- 

263 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

morants were nesting in great numbers on the 
islands. Later they witnessed the great flight 
of Eskimo curlew. 

The weather was cold and wet, the seas 
tumultuous. Storm succeeded storm. Audu- 
bon's southern blood was chilled by the rough 
climate, and his spirits were depressed by the 
ruggedness and desolation of the scenery. 
From the top of a high rock near Little Mecatine 
he exclaims: " I had a fine view of the most 
extensive and the dreariest wilderness I have 
ever beheld. It chilled the heart to gaze on 
these barren lands of Labrador." He lacked 
the Anglo-Saxon delight in northern regions 
so conspicuous in Cartwright. 

Yet these Labrador days were full of intense 
pleasure for Audubon. The new birds and 
flowers filled him with delight, and he laboured 
incessantly on his plates, rising at three and 
drawing often for seventeen hours almost 
continuously, in the crowded, wet, and usually 
very unsteady cabin. Here he was obliged to 
protect his work from the water that dropped 
from the rigging, as there was no window to 

254 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

the cabin, and the only light was admitted 
through the hatches. He was often wet to the 
skin, chilled by the cold, pestered by the in- 
numerable flies and mosquitoes, frequently 
seasick and worn by long hours of work and 
short hours of sleep. He attributes his fatigue 
to none of these, but exclaims: "No! No! it 
is that I am no longer young." 

Audubon's young friends explored the shore 
and islands for specimens for his pencil, while 
he allowed himself only short trips from his 
work, for observation and exercise. He dis- 
covered a new sparrow, which he named the 
Lincoln's sparrow, after his young companion, 
Tom Lincoln. His Journal states that * * twenty- 
three drawings have been executed, or com- 
menced and nearly completed." Seventy- 
three bird-skins were prepared, mostly by his 
son John. 

After nearly two months on these inhospitable 
shores, he sailed from Labrador on August ii, 
1833. He enters in his Journal: " Seldom in 
my life have I left a country with as little 
regret as I do this." Leaving the schooner 

255 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

at Pictou, he reached Eastpqrt on August 31st, 
and rejoined his family in New York on Sep- 
tember 7th. 

Before the arrival of the white man, — 
nature's worst enemy, — the Indian, the Es- 
kimo, the fox, and the polar bear helped them- 
selves from the abimdant feast of eggs and 
young prepared by the water-birds along the 
Labrador coast. Little or no harm was done. 
The multitude of birds could well spare these 
moderate contributions. There were a few 
less mouths to be filled, but this natural prun- 
ing had little effect on the birds as a whole. 
During the nineteenth century, however, the 
drain on these wonderful ntirseries of bird-life 
was fearful, and now but a pittance of the 
mighty host remains. 

Audubon, in 1833, was filled with horror 
and disgust at the destruction that was then 
going on. The following is from his Labrador 
Journal for Jime 21, 1833, written at American 
Harbour. 

" We ascertained to-d^y that a party of men 
from Halifax took last spring nearly forty 

256 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

thousand eggs, which they sold at HaHfax and 
other towns at twenty-live cents per dozen, 
making over eight htindred dollars; this was 
done in about two months. Last year, upwards 
of twenty sail were engaged in ' egging; ' so 
some idea may be formed of the birds that are 
destroyed in this rascally way. The eggers 
destroy all the eggs that are sat upon, to force 
the birds to lay again, and by robbing them 
regularly, they lay till nature is exhausted, and 
few yoxmg are raised. In less than half a 
century these wonderful nurseries will be 
entirely destroyed, imless some kind govern- 
ment will interfere to stop the shameful de- 
struction." 

And again at an island near Cape Whittle, 
on June 28, 1833, Audubon found two eggers 
gathering the eggs of murres. *' They had 
collected eight hundred dozen and expect to 
get two thousand dozen. The ntimber of 
broken eggs created a fetid smell on this 
island, scarcely to be borne." 

Among the " Episodes," published in his 
** Ornithological Biographies," Audubon wrote 

257 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

a highly dramatic one on this subject, entitled 
" The Eggers of Labrador," parts of which 
are here quoted. 

He describes a shallop with a crew of eight 
men, " There rides the filthy thing! The 
afternoon is half over. Her crew have thrown 
their boat overboard, they enter and seat them- 
selves, each with a rusty gun. One of them 
sculls the skiff towards an island for a century 
past the breeding-place of myriads of guille- 
mots, which are now to be laid under contri- 
bution. At the approach of the vile thieves, 
clouds of birds arise from the rock and fill the 
air around, wheeling and screaming over their 
enemies. Yet thousands remain in an erect 
posture, each covering its single egg, the hope of 
both parents. The reports of several muskets 
loaded with heavy shot are now heard, while 
several dead and wounded birds fall heavily 
on the rock or into the water. Instantly all 
the setting birds rise and fly off affrighted to 
their companions above, and hover in dismay 
over the assassins, who walk forward exiiltingly, 
and with their shouts mingling oaths and 

258 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

execrations. Look at them. See how they 
crush the chick within its shell, how they 
trample on every egg in their way with their 
huge and clumsy boots. Onward they go, and 
when they leave the isle, not an egg that they 
can find is left entire. The dead birds they 
collect and carry to their boat. Now they have 
regained their filthy shallop; they strip the 
birds by a single jerk of their feathery apparel 
while the flesh is yet warm, and throw them 
on some coals, where in a short time they are 
broiled. The rum is produced when the guille- 
mots are fit for eating, and after stuffing them- 
selves with this oily fare, and enjoying the 
pleasure of beastly intoxication, over they 
tumble on the deck of their crazed craft, where 
they pass the short hours of night in turbid 
slumber. . . . The light breeze enables them 
to reach another harbour a few miles distant, 
one which, like the last, lies concealed from the 
ocean by some other rocky isle. Arrived there, 
they re-act the scene of yesterday, crushing 
every egg they can find. For a week each 
night is passed in drunkeinness and brawls, 

259 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

until, having reached the last breeding-place 
on the coast, they return, touch at every isle 
in succession, shoot as many birds as they 
need, collect the fresh eggs, and lay in a 
cargo. . , . 

" With a bark nearly half filled with fresh 
eggs, they proceed to the principal rock, that on 
which they first landed. But what is their 
surprise when they find others there helping 
themselves as industriously as they can ! In 
boiling rage they charge their guns and ply 
their oars. Landing on the rock, they run up 
to the eggers, who, like themselves, are des- 
peradoes. The first question is a discharge of 
musketry, the answer another. . . . 

"The eggers of Labrador not only rob the 
birds in this cruel manner, but also the fisher- 
men, whenever they can find an opportunity; 
and the quarrels they excite are numberless. 
. . . These people gather all the eider-down 
they can find; yet so inconsiderate are they 
that they kill every bird which comes in their 
way. The eggs of gulls, guillemots, and ducks 
are searched for with care ; and the puffins and 

260 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

some other birds they massacre in vast ntim.bers 
for the sake of their feathers. So constant and 
persevering are their depredations that the 
species, which, according to the accounts of 
the few settlers I saw in the country, were 
exceedingly abundant twenty years ago, have 
abandoned their ancient breeding-places, and 
removed much farther north in search of peace- 
ful security. Scarcely, in fact, could I procure 
a young guillemot before the eggers left the 
coast, nor was it until late in July that I suc- 
ceeded, after the birds had laid three or four 
eggs each, instead of one, and when, nature 
having been exhausted, and the season nearly 
spent, thousands of these birds left the country 
without having accomplished the purpose for 
which they had visited it. This war of exter- 
mination cannot last many years more. The 
eggers themselves will be the first to repent 
the entire disappearance of the myriads of 
birds that made the coast of Labrador their 
summer residence, and unless they follow the 
persecuted tribes to the northward, they must 
renounce their trade." 

261 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

In Canadian Labrador the laws against 
egging or shooting the nesting birds are now 
fairly enforced, I am told. My own brief 
observations on the small piece of Canadian 
Labrador I saw would seem to bear this out. 
On Newfoundland Labrador, which includes a 
coastal strip extending from Blanc Sablon 
on the southern coast easterly to Cape Charles, 
and then north along the eastern coast, there 
seems to be no let or hindrance to the destruc- 
tive tendencies of mankind. As Kipling says : 

" There's never a law of God or man runs 
North of Fifty-three." 

It is perfectly natural that the fishermen 
should consider the eggs and yoimg and even 
the breeding parents as a godsend to eke out 
their scanty larder. Knowing every rock as 
they do, along the entire coast, they can easily 
keep in touch with the birds and rob them of 
their treasures. At Winsor Harbour, I saw 
six young great black-backed gulls cooped in 
an ancient wreck, for the purpose of fattening 
for the pan. Unless some penalty can be 
imposed one cannot expect a fisherman to pass 

262 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

by a nest ftdl of eider-duck's eggs, or even leave 
the fat mother unmolested if he can shoot her. 
Young or moulting ducks are easily caught 
and make very good eating, and are no doubt 
a delightful change from the usual course of 
fish. One of the Moravian brethren spoke to 
me with great gusto of the delights of an 
omelet made of eider's eggs.' The Eskimo 
procure, he said, from two to three hundred 
eggs of all kinds for them every spring. When 
I asked if he had noticed any diminution in 
the numbers of birds, he replied that he had 
not. My companion remarked to me sotto 
voce: " He'll never miss the water 'til the well 
runs dry." 

Eider-ducks still breed in great numbers on 
the islands off the northern part of the eastern 
coast of Labrador. On the southern parts of 
the coast, the fishermen have, by their incessant 
persecutions, greatly reduced their numbers. 
They are actually killing the goose that lays 
the golden egg. In Norway and Iceland, the 
eider, instead of being slain, is offered every 
protection and encouragement, for the sake 

263 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

of its eggs and for the down which the female 
plucks from its breast as a covering for the 
eggs. The people are not even allowed to fire 
off gims near its haunts, and, in some localities, 
nesting-places are contrived for its accommoda- 
tion. As a consequence the bird becomes very- 
tame, and the eggs and down, which are taken 
under intelligent oversight, are the source of 
considerable profit, without causing any dimi- 
nution in the stock of birds. If the people 
of Labrador could be made to imderstand this 
a new industry would arise, and the American 
eider, instead of being a vanishing race, would 
again populate the numerous islands along 
the southern coasts of the peninsula. 

The destruction wrought by the Eskimo 
dogs I have already mentioned, and it must be 
considerable. It will continue imtil the dogs 
are destroyed in favour of reindeer. 

During the migrations both spring and fall 
the liveyers take large toll of the ducks and 
other water-birds. Even gulls are shot for 
their flesh as well as their feathers. The ivory 
gull, a northern bird that follows the ice, is 

264 



NEED OF AN AUDUBON SOCIETY 

curiously enough called the " ice partridge," 
and is sometimes obtained, I was told by the 
gunners, in the following manner. A quantity 
f seals' blood is poured on to the ice near the 
shore, and the birds are shot as they hover over 
it, while some actually kill themselves by pitch- 
ing against the ice in their eagerness to procure 
the food. The name " ice partridge " was a 
puzzle, but we came to the conclusion, from the 
description given of the bird, that it must be 
the ivory gulL I was so fortunate as to obtain 
a skin of an ivory gull from an Eskimo, and 
I showed it to my friends, the gunners. They 
at once exclaimed it was " an ice partridge." 
Single-barrel muzzle-loading guns are the 
common weapons used, and large charges of 
powder and shot are the custom* I was 
told that 125 ducks were picked up at 
one place last spring after a volley of five 
guns. Twenty-five more were picked up the 
next morning. The fishermen, with whom 
I talked, made no concealment of the fact 
that they took all the eggs and killed all 
the birds they could. They often took their 

265 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

guns with them when they visited their fish- 
traps. 

What is to be the result of all this if nothing 
be done to stop the destruction? There can 
be only one restilt, and that is already shown 
in places. For example, near Battle Harbour, 
where fishermen are plenty, sea-birds in sum- 
mer are very scarce. It is true that in the deep 
bays and inlets, which are deserted in summer 
by man, and given over to the flies and mos- 
quitoes, a number of water-birds breed com- 
paratively unmolested, but the majority of the 
water-birds will not resort there, but prefer 
the outer islands. 

In the United States the National Audubon 
Society, with local branches nearly everywhere, 
is doing most excellent work in bird protection. 
It is sincerely to be hoped that the wonderful 
nursery for water-birds in Labrador will not 
be entirely depopulated, but that sufficient 
protection for the breeding birds will be given 
before this latter deplorable state of affairs 
comes to pass. 



266 



CHAPTER XII 

DR. WILFRED T. GRENFELL AND HIS WORK 

"A robust, hearty Saxon, strong, indefatigable, devoted, 
jolly; a doctor, a parson by times, something of a sportsman 
when occasion permitted, a master mariner, a magistrate, the 
director of certain commercial enterprises designed to ' help the 
folk help themselves ' — the prophet and champion, indeed, of a 
people ; and a man very much in love vnth life." 

— " Dr. GrenfelVs Parish" by Norman Duncan. 

T SHOULD have been saved much mortifica- 
tion if I had been so fortunate as to meet 
Doctor Grenfell in Labrador. The first question 
I am asked is always put in the form of an asser- 
tion: "Of course you saw Doctor Grenfell." 
On my confessing that I did not, interest in 
the subject dwindles. However, I have had 
the pleasure of meeting Doctor Grenfell in 
Boston and of knowing him, have heard much 
of his work, and while I was in Labrador saw 
his hospitals, his assistants, and his patients, 
267 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

but was so unfortunate as to play Box and 
Cox with him at Battle Harbour. He was never 
there when I was there, but came and went 
several times in my absence. He had kindly 
written me, offering every assistance and 
hospitality in Labrador, but we never made 
connections. 

It will be worth while to take up in turn 
some of Doctor Grenfell's characteristics as 
given by Norman Duncan, in the lines quoted 
at the head of this chapter. 

Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell, a graduate of Oxford 
and of the London Hospital, and a member of 
the Royal College of Surgeons, after working 
in the London sliims, joined the staff of the 
Royal National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, 
and established the medical mission to the 
fishermen of the North Sea fleet. Largely 
through his work in the face of much opposition, 
the moral and physical condition of these fisher- 
men was greatly changed for the better. In 
1892 Doctor Grenfell set sail for Labrador to 
inaugurate a similar work there, and he has 
been at it ever since. His work is not finished, 
268 




Dr. Grenf ell's Hospital at Battle Harbour 




Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell, the Magistrate, Taking Evidence 

Photograph by Dr. E. A. Crockett 



DOCTOR GRENFELL AND HIS WORK 

there is still much to be done, but he has 
accomplished much in these fourteen years. 

Before he came, no doctor had ever spent a 
winter in Labrador, and the visits of the 
government doctor in summer were few and 
unsatisfactory. Furthermore, the nearest hos- 
pital was many miles off in St. Johns, New- 
foundland, and inaccessible during the greater 
part of the year. Doctor Grenfell has estab- 
lished a hospital on the northern Newfoundland 
coast at St. Anthony, which is open through- 
out the year, another at Battle Harbour, on the 
Labrador coast, at the entrance of the Straits 
of Belle Isle, also open throughout the year, 
and one at Indian Harbour, at the mouth of 
Hamilton Inlet, for the summer season. A 
fourth hospital he is establishing this summer 
in Canadian Labrador at Harrington. 

The hospital at Battle Harbour consists of 
two connecting frame houses surrounded by 
an uncovered piazza or platform. The buildings 
are two stories in height, neatly painted white, 
with a text from the Bible in large white letters 
on a green background running across the 
271 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

fronts: " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto 
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have 
done it unto me." There are accommodations 
for the nurses, who are called " sisters," and 
for about twenty patients. There is a neat 
dispensary, where out-patients, coming from the 
visiting, fishing-vessels and brought from the 
surrounding coimtry, are attended to. There 
is also an excellent operating-room, where 
many a poor sotd is relieved of some great 
handicap to existence, and restored to useful- 
ness. The resident physician's house is a 
picturesque little cottage which was brought 
here in pieces and set up on slightly higher 
ground to the north of the hospital. Here we 
were hospitably received by Doctor Grenfell's 
assistant. Doctor Mumford, and his wife and 
sister on our first visit, and by Doctor Grieve 
and his wife on our return, for the former 
assistant had been relieved and had started 
for England during our absence. Two Bowdoin 
College students were spending the summer at 
the hospital assisting in Doctor Grenfell's work 
in every way they could, but especially in 

272 



DOCTOR GRENFELL AND HIS WORK 

helping to run the two gasoline motor launches 
that the doctor was using. Unfortunately, 
the launch at Battle Harbour lacked certain 
essential parts to her machinery, for which they 
had been waiting all summer, but they were 
not idle. While we were there they were dig- 
ging a drain for the hospital, and sitting up 
with a very sick patient at night. 

One poor boy who had boarded the Home 
at a port in southern Labrador, pale and limp- 
ing, I later found in bed at the hospital, happy 
and beaming. He was enjoying a child's picture- 
book. He had had a neglected bone abscess, 
which was operated on successfully at the 
hospital. He would have lost his leg and 
probably his life if he had not reached this good 
asylum. There was a child in the hospital 
suffering from rickets, and I was perplexed at 
thinking of the difficulties of the attempt prop- 
erly to feed a case of rickets without any 
cow's milk. I can imagine no better bequest 
to the hospital than a good cow with sufficient 
money to build a dog-proof fence about her, 
and a little income with which to purchase hay 

273 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

for her feed. Better still would be the purchase 
of some reindeer that could be protected in the 
same way. These would furnish milk and also 
an object-lesson in the superiority of reindeer 
over dogs. The modification of reindeer milk 
to suit the needs of infants would be a new and 
interesting problem. 

At Indian Harbour I visited the other hospi- 
tal. Here, besides the hospital, which contained 
seven or eight patients, was a large chapel, 
which the doctor in charge told me was often 
crowded with men on Sundays when the har- 
bour was full of fishing- vessels. This hospital 
is closed during the winter. 

The steamship Strathcona might properly be 
called a hospital. She is certainly a hospital 
ship, for she is fitted for the accommodation 
of patients. On her Doctor Grenfell traverses 
many miles of the dangerous coast dtiring the 
summer. He visits patients, treating or oper- 
ating on them at their homes, or he takes them 
aboard the steamer for transportation to one 
of his land hospitals. Many were the tales I 
heard of his daring work in crowding both 

274 



DOCTOR GRENFELL AND HIS WORK 

steam and sail in fog and storm, for the season 
is brief when navigation is possible at all, and 
so much is to be done. He spares not himself. 
In the winter, he and his assistants travel many- 
hundreds of miles on dog sledges along the icy 
highway of the Labrador coast on their mis- 
sions of mercy. 

I remember Doctoi Grenfell's telling in Bos- 
ton of two old men brought several hundred 
miles on dog sledges to the hospital at Battle 
Harbour. One came from the southern, the 
other from the eastern coast. Arrived at the 
hospital about the same time, they found that 
they were brothers, and they had not seen each 
other for twenty years. And they could not 
see each other then, for they were both blind 
from cataracts. However, before they left 
the hospital their sight was restored, for he 
operated on both successfully. 

A number of specialists from our Eastern 
cities have volunteered from time to time for 
a part of the summer season, and have accom- 
panied Doctor Grenfell on his round of mercy 
on the Strathcona. 

275 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

One of the lessons Doctor Grenf ell's patients 
learn in his hospitals is the advantage of fresh 
air, and it is to be hoped that they act as mis- 
sionaries in spreading this doctrine on their 
return to their homes. In two places I saw 
tuberculous-looking patients sitting up in make- 
shift tents out-of-doors where they could get 
the air and be protected from the winds. It 
is curious that in Labrador, where the air is 
so pure, this lesson should be needed, but it 
seems to be the impulse of all uneducated man- 
kind whenever sickness occurs to stop every 
crack that can possibly let in a breath of fresh 
air. The consequence is tuberculosis is a 
prevalent disease in Labrador. 

With the medical work Doctor Grenf ell is, 
as Norman Duncan says, " a parson by times." 
He is a devoted follower of the great evangelist, 
the late Dwight L. Moody, and this religious 
side of his nature is constantly uppermost. 
" Preach the word," as well as " Heal the 
sick," is his motto. 

That he is "a sportsman when occasion 
permitted " I doubt not, but I also doubt 

276 



DOCTOR GRENFELL AND HIS WORK 

whether occasion often permits, although being 
a resourceful man he finds many more occasions 
than would the plodder. 

A master mariner he certainly is, and he has 
long astonished the natives of these coasts by 
his adventurous voyages in fog and storm, — 
storms that have wrecked many a stauncher 
vessel. All I can say is that, being a family 
man, I am content to sail with a more cautious 
even if less skilful skipper, for Labrador rocks 
and Labrador icebergs have a way of cropping 
up in a fog when least expected. Many a vessel 
has Doctor Grenfell rescued from these rocks 
by his timely aid. 

Doctor Grenfell is also a magistrate appointed 
by the Newfoundland government. He tries 
cases from time to time, and has done much to 
break up the crime of barratry. This latter 
word, being interpreted, means the wrecking 
of a vessel for the purpose of obtaining her 
insurance money. It is a crime that is doubtless 
far from infrequent on these shores. 

Lastly, Doctor Grenfell is " the director of 
certain commercial enterprises designed to ' help 

277 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the folk help themselves ' — the prophet and 
champion indeed of a people." Before he came 
to the coast, and even now, to a large extent, 
the fishermen, those who come for the siimmer 
only and those also who spend the winter in 
trapping, — the liveyers, — have been and are 
for the most part in a constant state of debt. 
The Hudson's Bay Company, which takes the 
furs, and the merchants, who take the fish, give 
in exchange at an enormous profit to themselves 
provisions, clothing, traps, nets, and salt. 
Both of these keep the people ground down by 
a debt they are never able to lift. As Doctor 
Grenfell says in "The Harvest of the Sea:" 
" The troubles of this system are very real. 
The merchant has to nm a great risk. He lets 
out, in the form of goods, large sums of money, 
which he has to borrow from the bank. If the 
fishing is bad, he may never be paid at all, 
because the planters (the men who take out 
the supplies) cannot meet their debts. Again, 
if they can just pay, still the merchant is 
expected to make another advance for the 
winter. . . . The whole ' truck system,' as it 

278 



DOCTOR GRENFELL AND HIS WORK 

is called, is a rmnous one in every way. . . . 
To be born in debt, to live in debt, and to die 
in debt, has been the lot of many a Newfound- 
land fisherman." Doctor Grenfell has played 
a great part in introducing better conditions. 
He established on the northern coast of New- 
foundland a cooperative sawmill which has 
relieved the poverty in all the district around and 
has enabled over sixty families to live all winter 
where none lived before. He has also estab- 
lished some half-dozen cooperative stores on 
the Newfoundland coast and one at Blanc 
Sablon and one at Red Bay in Labrador. The 
last named "store has been in operation now 
for nearly ten years. It has done a great deal 
to render the neighbouring fishermen independ- 
ent. It has cheapened very materially the prices 
of goods, especially the main articles of con- 
sumption, such as salt, flour, butter, tea, and 
pork. It has not accomplished all it might 
have done, if a business man had been able to 
manage it, but it is still a decided success, and 
the managers, almost illiterate fishermen, have 
learnt a great deal from it. The opinion of 

279 



ALONG THE LABRADOR COAST 

the people there is, that were it not for the 
little cooperative store, they would have had 
to leave the place before this." 

Doctor Grenfell is indeed an all-rotind man, 
one of the finest types of Christian workers. 



THE END. 



280 



mr 2y \>m^ 



